


Everlong

by sketzocase



Series: Songs of the Heart [1]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Dark, Emotional Hurt, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 01:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 59,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2713880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketzocase/pseuds/sketzocase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daken agrees to a groundbreaking procedure dealing with memory- particularly memories involving Romulus and the inner working of his dynasty- at Johnny's behest. Things go south really quickly, leaving Johnny stuck fighting for the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everlong

**Author's Note:**

> So this is really dark... and really long. But it's an idea I've had bouncing around in my head for a very long time and I figured 'why the hell not'. Mixes in a bunch of characters from both the fantastic four and the x-men. And the hulk. And... well let's just say a lot of people. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, faithful readers (because I'm not sure if this will garner any new ones at this point) I would like to inform you that when I originally posted this three chapters at a time, I kinda ... well fucked up the chapters. Posted stuff in the wrong place. Posted things that weren't meant to be posted. Yea... my bad. 
> 
> Nothing's really changed too much. Much better grammar, some new scenes.  
> I got to the fourth installment of this and realized from some comments and such that certain things weren't present. So I did some research and blah blah blah. 
> 
> The real changes are in 'Best of You'.  
> All of this is to say, thanks for reading if you're a re-reader- sorry I fucked up the chapters.  
> And thanks for reading if you're a new reader! Sorry for the emotional damage the fics are capable of causing. 
> 
> Leave a comment or a kudos if you're so inclined!

It’s not like I asked for this... for any of this. For all of this- however you want to put it. It’s become so massive at this point.

I was just helping out a friend. Saving a few lives- the usual for me. But then something so simple, something so good in the beginning turned out so horribly wrong. Something that was supposed to be harmless has completely changed its form mid stream…. this… oh fuck. I don’t even know what to call it at this point. All the terms they used are too cold and detached. Cold and detached is not something I can do at this point…. not with this.

The knocking at the door is getting more and more persistent. I had hoped that after the first ten they’d get the message.

KNOCK.

Apparently, I was wrong.

“Too loud,” he mumbles beside me. We’re in his bedroom, lights turned off, fan blowing and balcony doors open, even though it’s December in New York... which means that not only is it freezing- but there’s literally a puddle of melted snow on the hardwood floor.

This room used to be nice- like most things he owned. Clean and polished. Not a thing out of place. Now... clothes take up most available space on the floor. Not expensive clothes either- Not his style at all. Just sweats, hoodies, a few tanks in various colors…. Stuff I picked out for him. He says it’s too much to leave the house nowadays. He just hands me money and leaves it up to me. I haven’t been telling him- but he’s gone down at least three pants sizes since I started buying his clothes. He refuses to eat anymore.

KNOCK.

Sighing in an irritated manner, I gently kiss his head and maneuver him off of my lap. “I’ll be right back.” As I reach the door- once white, now covered in claw marks and barely hanging on its hinges - I turn back to him. “Don’t go anywhere... okay Daken?” I wait for his response, but like usual, it doesn’t come.

Walking down the stairs I’m startled by the stark contrast the rest of the apartment is to the bedroom. Clean, smelling of lemon scented cleaners and bleach, not an item on the floor. I’m about to go back upstairs and ask if Daken let anyone in while I was gone yesterday before remembering that Sue had said something about doing some housework for me a few weeks back. Sometimes, I hate her meddling. This time- not so much.

Finally, I reach the door, admittedly already in a bad mood. “Whoever this is, it had better be pretty fucking important,” I growl, yanking the door open, letting in a blistering cold wind. If I were to lie, I’d say it was the cold that made my heart freeze- but since I’ve sworn myself to honesty here lately, I’ll go with the fact that Nick Fury and Len Samson are standing there. One in his usual business suit…. And one in that standard, ugly as fuck, S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform.

The shorter man stares at me with the cold indifferent gaze that he likes to use to show the world how much better he is than it. It took me a while to try and figure out if the eye patch made it worse- or better. At the moment, I’m settling firmly for ‘worse’.

The larger, tanner, man does a polite smile, doing his best to look non-imposing.

“What do you want?” I demand venomously.

“Can we come in?” Leonard asks calmly, adjusting his grip on a small black duffle bag. I’m wondering what he could possibly be carrying a bag for.

“No. Way. In. Hell.” I enunciate each word with a growl, hoping they’ll get the strong hint that I don’t want them here.

“Son, it’s cold out here,” Fury growls right back. “Let us in or we will take down the door. We’re not trying to cause a scene.”

I stand there and think about the pros and cons of doing as he says.

Mainly- the procedures are over. I can’t begin to guess why they’re here. Or, while we’re on the subject, why they’re both here. Usually, it’s one on one. Both of them showing up can’t be good news.

“You said you would stop doing house calls.” Even as I say this, I open the door a little further, allowing the two men to enter. No need to involve the neighbors in anything messy. If Fury says he’ll take down the door- he means it. It’s best to take him at his word and just do as he says as much as possible.

“This isn’t exactly a house call,” Samson clears his throat nervously, running a hand through his shocking green hair. “Where is he today?” Samson is above average looking- I’ll give him that. The only thing left from his little ‘gamma radiation’ slip being the size of him and the green hair…. I’ve been told that he’s strong as fuck and tends to have a temper- both side effects of that particular form of radiation. I’ve never seen it personally, though. Most the time he’s just the cool-headed Psychiatrist to the caped community- all smiles and soothing tones.

“The same place he’s been for the last two weeks,” I sigh. “Why?”

The green haired man nods. “I figured as much.” He whips out the small bag that he’s been carrying and retrieves a syringe.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I growl, grabbing the man by the shoulder.

Samson blinks in a confused manner. “Johnny, I thought someone would have told you...”

“Told me what?” I don’t let go of the man- though I know he could easily get away if he wanted to.

“Sit down,” Fury says with a sigh. “I honestly thought Reed had told you.”

Cautiously, I take a seat on the black leather couch- they continue to stand. I feel like a kid waiting for bad news- the only way I can describe their body language is ‘hovering’. They’re observing me in a cool and collected manner. Chills start to creep up my spine.

“Storm, this shouldn’t come as a surprise as to why we’re here,” The older man says slowly, crossing his arms and eyeing me in a calculating manner.

“Actually- yea. It does. I thought we were done.”

  
“We are,” Samson assures. “We’re not going to make him do anything else. We’ve come to check on him… make sure he’s doing okay.” He smiles again. “We’ve got a new treatment option that I think he’ll find very beneficial and- “

And it starts to dawn on me. Slowly, but clearly. Like being hit by a semi-truck in the middle of a dense fog.

“You’re not- “

“Afraid so,” Samson says with a nod.

“Why!?” I’m on my feet again in a flash, feeling the intense heat I feel when I’m firing up creep through me. “He’s not hurting anyone!”

“Reed said he stabbed you just two nights ago,” Fury says calmly.

“He- he didn’t know what he was doing, I fumble my words, starting to feel a sense of betrayal where my brother in law is concerned. I put my hands on my forehead, trying to force myself to think of a way to defend him. “One slip up- I swear. He’s fine now.”

“That may be- but the fact still stands- he STABBED you,” Samson says calmly. “We haven’t taken into consideration exactly how he’s feeling. You want to think about that, don’t you? These states of confusion can’t be healthy for him. Imagine how he feels when he slips- Johnny. Don’t you want to help him?”

“You know better than most what happens when he gets in those... ‘states’, Samson. You were there when Fury wanted to start all this shit!”

“Right. And now, that ‘shit’ is over. We have what we need and- “

“And you’re going to lock him away somewhere to rot because you’re done with him,” I growl.

“No,” Fury says heatedly, seemingly annoyed with Samson’s calmer tactic, “We’re going to hold ourselves responsible for the damage the procedures have caused and take care of him to the best of our ability.” then he hisses, “And keep your fucking voice down, I know he can hear us.”

Bullshit. Complete bullshit.

“Good! Then maybe he’ll have the good sense to run!” I state louder than I had before. “You don’t clean up after yourself- Fury. That’s bullshit.” 

“You’re making this more difficult than it already is, Johnny,” Samson sighs, running a hand down his suit jacket.

“You’re not going up those stairs without a... I don’t fucking know. A court order or something!”

“Johnny,” Fury says with a laugh. “Think about who you’re talking to. Think real hard. Now tell me that I can’t walk up those stairs.”

Dumbfounded, I stammer, “This isn’t legal! You promised that if he went through with this that you’d leave him alone!”

“Well, that’s before he went batshit crazy!” Fury shoots back, just as loudly as me.

“Well, whose fault is that!?” I start to go up the stairs, only to be grabbed by Fury and spun around.

“He knew what he was signing on for. I told him clearly that this would happen, so don’t give me your bleeding heart bullshit.”

My face must show something because the man lets me go and takes a few steps back. “You said this could happen. Not that it would. If he had known what was going to happen, he would have told you to shove it up your ass. You used your stupid S.H.I.E.L.D. logic to con him into something that has literally BROKEN him, and now you’re going to get rid of the evidence. Because you know that no one is going to come looking for him.”

“Ten out of ten for observation, kid.” Fury smirks and starts to push past me.

Think Johnny…. Think! “Take one more step and I will burn this house to the ground. I know that he and I could survive it.” I threaten, lighting my hand to drive the point home. “Not so sure about you two, though,” I smirk. “Maybe you should leave now.”

“Just let us do our job,” Samson says from behind me. “I’m a trained Psychiatrist. And a pretty damn good one at that... I can help him. That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s what you’ve been trying to do all these months, hasn’t it been?”

“Don’t use your psychobabble shit on me.” I know I’m losing. I just hope that I’m giving Daken enough time to get away. That’s all I can hope for. “Leave,” I order, turning up the flame just a little higher. “I’m warning you.”

“We’re not here to make a scene,” Samson says gently. “Please- flame off.”

“Oh Fuck you,” I growl.

“Johnny- please. Let’s talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“We’re taking him,” Fury growls. “We’re taking him regardless what you do. Cooperate and make this easier on him. He’s in for a rough day as it is.”

“Rough day?” I growl again.

“Flame off,” Samson repeats. “This is going to be rough on him. He won’t want to go with us, Johnny- no one ever does. Show him that it’s going to be okay- alright?”

“Bullshit.” I feel overwhelmed here.

“Let’s talk.” Samson takes a step towards me, hand held out in a calming motion. “Drop the flames.”

I sigh harshly. “Don't try to bullshit me,” I warn.

“I’ll keep it to a minimum.” He flashes a smile that would be reassuring in other circumstances.

I let the flame go out. “You’ve got three minutes. Talk.”

“Thank you.” Samson smiles again. “We just want to make sure he’s okay. That’s all.”

“By taking him away!!?”

“He needs rest, Johnny,” Samson chuckles. “And so do you.”

“I’m fine,” I growl.

“Let us up the stairs- Storm. Enough of this shit,” Fury demands in his gravelly, low, voice.

“NO!” I stretch out the word, spreading my arm to the side of the stairs, taking both railings in a hand.

“Johnny,” Samson sighs. “if you keep blocking us, I will have you sedated, and we will forcibly remove him from the house... I was hoping you’d work with us to see that he’s at least somewhat peaceful. I know he doesn’t really like me all that much...”

“That’s an understatement,” I chuckle spitefully.

“Be that as it may,” The man growls, holding his hands out in front of him like he’s trying to resist the urge to hit something. “Daken is beyond your control, turn him over to the professionals.”

“He knows this is pointless,” Fury comments. “The bastard's stalling.”

Stalling? Fuck you, Fury.

…mainly because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.

“Fine.” Thinking I’ve bought enough time, I sigh and let them past- following quickly behind them.

“Which room?” Fury demands.

“This one.” I push the ragged door- which has been hanging on by one little piece of wood- hard enough that the wood snaps. The door comes falling forward toward us, and being the trained professionals that we are, we all avoid it easily.

The two men share a concerned look. “When did this happen?”

“Does it really matter?” I ask sullenly.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” Samson is the first one to enter the small dark space. “It’s freezing in here,” He states really to no one.

“He says it helps him sleep,” I supply, lingering at the door with Fury, not wanting to see him still laying there. After all my stalling and trying to get in their way- he hasn’t moved.

“We’ll keep that in mind.” Samson looks around the room questioningly. “This is his room then? No one else’s?”

I don’t answer.

“Johnny this is relatively important for our notes...” Samson sighs again -as if I’m being the difficult one.

“A month or so ago, when it got worse, I started sleeping in here with him. There, is that what you want for your notes? To expose every aspect of his personal life as well as his mind?” I roll my eyes. “He doesn’t have anything left. Can you at least give him the illusion of privacy?”

Samson holds his hands skyward again, but this time in a ‘chill’ gesture. “So the state the room’s in...”

“It’s the way he likes it,” I growl. “What more do you want me to say?”

“It just doesn’t seem very much like Daken, is all.” The green haired man goes back to looking around.

“Well, you really haven’t bothered to check in on him much since the procedures got underway. He’s changed quite a bit.”

“That,” The man nudges a pile of clothing with his expensive shoes, “Is an understatement.”

“Quit fucking around, would you Doc? I got places to be today,” Fury says from what remains of the door.

“Right.” The man moves towards the king sized bed, stopping a good three feet from striking distance. Smart man. “Daken?” He questions stupidly.

The room is dead silent for a few moments.“He won’t answer you,” I sigh into my hand. “He barely answers me.”

“Okay then...” The doctor looks around the room. “Since you live here it seems- something that would have been nice to include in the notes beforehand- “

“Eat shit,” I growl.

The doc is unfazed. “Pack him a bag,” He concludes.

“You do it.” I walk over to the bed and sit down by Daken’s curled form. “I stalled for you,” I say gently. “I know you heard them... I know you know what they’re trying to do.” He doesn’t even acknowledge that I’ve spoken. “Daken, why didn’t you run?” I plead.

The only sound is Samson rummaging through the closet.

“Daken- “

“I have nowhere else to go,” he answers quietly, getting the attention of everyone in the room.

I sigh. “I know you don’t.”

“Don’t be such a girl,” he says in an attempt at humor. “I can leave.”

Short and to the point. I don’t think he grasps that he’s being committed….. and that you don’t get to leave when you want.

“Actually...” Samson digs through his own bag. “S.H.I.E.L.D. got a court to sign off on your being too mentally inept to care for yourself after observing some of my notes from the last procedure and taking into account your violent actions towards Johnny.” He waits for a second before adding, “Normally in these cases the rights are turned over to the parents- But with your father’s most unfortunate passing, you’re to go into S.H.I.E.L.D. ‘s custody.”

A few months ago, Daken would have slashed this man to ribbons. He would have fought until he was free, causing as much damage as he possibly could. Now... after all that’s happened- he just lays there. Like he hadn’t just heard the load of horse shit that I had.

“Daken? Do you have a response?”

“…No.”

“Then you understand?”

He says nothing.

“No, he doesn’t ‘understand’!” I try to defend. “Please- let me take him.” This hits me suddenly. “I’ll go with him, get him settled in, he’ll be fine.”

“No,” Fury says sternly. “We’re not dragging this out because your boy toy is a little sad. We’ll get him processed faster if you’re not there.”

“Daken?” I question. “Say something. Tell them you want me to come.”

He opens his mouth, but words don’t come out. Eventually, he just hides his face in the pillows.

“Well, that went better than expected,” Fury drawls.

“Yea...” I state somewhat in shock.

“Makes me think that this whole shindig wasn’t worth it. We only took down like five people... they were the only ones left alive. He literally broke himself for five people.”

I gulp a little. It’s my fault- Daken did this for me... I asked him to and he didn’t give it a second thought.

“We’re going to sedate you now,” Samson addresses the man on the bed, snapping me out of my daze. “It’ll make the ride easier... and escape a little harder. You understand I’m sure.”

“Can I at least have a minute with him first?” I ask in shock as the man starts prepping the needle.

Samson checks his watch. “I suppose... if you make it quick. Really they want him checked in and looked over as soon as possible.”

“I’m sure they do,” I snarl. I bet they had every hospital in the country trying to get their hands on Wolverine’s blood- which just so happens to be housed in Daken. They don’t care about his well being… that’s a fucking afterthought! If Fury thinks for one second that he’s going to be treated fairly and with dignity- he’s lying to himself.

“Daken.” I take his hand in mine, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles.

Where are your claws? Why aren’t you fighting??

Those Gray eyes are unfocused and cloudy like they usually are. “I’m so sorry,” I start, but his face stops me. His lips pull up into a paler, more worn out version of his infamous smirk.

“Such a girl,” He says quietly.

“What? I- “

He just closes his eyes, drifting back off to wherever he goes when he’s not lucid.

“I think in his condition, that’s as close as you're going to get to a goodbye,” Samson says tiredly. “Can I do my job please?”

“S-sure,” I mutter.

It’s not long after they sedate him that someone brings in a gurney. It’s even shorter after that, that they’re taking him away from me. They landed a chopper in the front the yard…. They… they must be going somewhere far away from here.

“Wait!” I call in sudden and total horror.

Fury turns around. “For the love of Christ, what is it now?”

“Where?” I demand. Unable to form complete sentences.

“Where what?”

“Where are they taking him?”

Fury smirks. “It’s confidential.” He turns on his heel and starts to go towards the chopper.

“Don’t you give me that bullshit!” I yell at him and in a moment of pure rage, I throw a good sized fireball at the back of his head, making him drop to the ground.

I’m swarmed by S.H.I.E.L.D agents right away- they pin me to the ground and twist my arm behind me. “Continue your actions, and I will have you arrested,” Fury says from above me. “You did your job. You got him to come to the appointments- you kept him in one place- you’re done. Your check is in the mail. Let it go.”

It’s- it’s not as simple as that, though.

Fury searches my face and then sighs heavily. “Fuck it all. What did I tell you when I recruited you Storm? What did I tell you?”

“Not to- “

“Not to get attached.” He stares at me angrily. “And what did you go turn around and do?”

“It’s not like that!”

“You got caught up in feelings that he can’t possibly return. You know that. Be grateful we cut this off before any real damage was done.”

“What do you mean ‘real damage’? Did you not see what your stupid idea did to him!?”

“Real damage- you could have gotten hurt worse than a little stab wound. He doesn’t ‘love’ you kid. He’s not capable of it. Be glad we stopped this before you started decorating the house or some shit.”

“How could you say that?” I demand, feeling very upset. “You don’t even know him!”

“I know him plenty,” Fury growls. “Be grateful he’s so fucked up right now. I could have just as easily thrown him in prison for some of the shit he’s pulled.”

“We have proof that a lot of it was done for someone else,” I growl back.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s not your problem anymore, Johnny. Smile, say ‘thank you’, and go spend the cash we’re giving you. Buy a new car, buy a prostitute- anything. Just let it go.”

“You can’t do this!” I cry.

Fury shakes his head. “Storm, you want my advice? Go find a girl. Settle down. Pop a few runts out. And most importantly- forget this. Life will be so much easier for you if you do.” He turns to the agents that have been suppressing me. “Let him up. If he tries anything else, stun him. I’m not having a cape’s corpse on my record in broad daylight. Especially not one from his team.”

I could have done a number of things. Any number of things. But I just watched them take off. Watched them disappear into the distance... I’m too stunned. Too… fuck it. Just so fucking conflicted. I can’t go against Fury- in our little community, S.H.I.E.L.D. is pretty much the end all be all of authorities. Fury can make people disappear…. Fuck. He is making someone disappear. Right in front of me!

No real damage? What is REAL damage anyway? If this isn’t real, then why do I feel like the slimiest, most scum filled bastard on the planet?

I sink to my knees outside of this nice apartment complex. People are staring- not even trying to hide it. They’re staring at me, staring after the helicopter that had just been here... I don’t know which is more interesting at this point. And honestly, I don’t care. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I know I can’t go back into that house- Not knowing that he’s gone. Completely gone now. The finality of it may just push me over the edge.

I reach into my pocket and pull out my iPhone. Sue’s number is permanently etched into my brain- I don't even bother going through my contacts. My breathing is harsh when she answers.

“Johnny?” She sounds worried when I don’t answer right away. “Johnny are you there?”

“...”

“Johnny?”

“Yea?” I ask weakly. “I... I don’t know why I called. I don’t- I just don’t-” And I collapse into tears. Like I used to do when I was a teenager and some girl had broken my heart.

Such a girl.

He was right. He always had a way of being right.

“What happened?” she asks soothingly in a voice that’s a tad too close to Moms.

“Ask your husband,” I state angrily through my sobs. “Ask him.”

“Oh, Johnny,” Sue sounds like she’s about to cry too-She hates it when I’m upset. “Are you at the apartment? I’ll be there in five minutes- alright? Just stay there.”

My jeans are soaked from crouching down in the snow. My face is damp from crying and from where the agents had held me on the ground.

There’s a small crowd gathering around me…. Something I don’t need right now.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” I demand from an elderly couple a few feet away.They stare in shock but don’t respond.

This has got to be one of the darkest, dirtiest things I’ve ever done... and he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know I was in on it. He... he trusts me. He went with them still trusting me. I’m probably the only person in the world that can say that about him.

And god damn it all, I miss him. Sure things were bad at the end. His mind- what was left of it when the telepaths got done with it- it slipped more and more each day. I was coming over to find him clutching his head in the kitchen, the room totally trashed as he looked for something that didn’t exist. That had never existed.

How long has it been? How long have I been sitting here….?

I just keep coming back to his face before they sedated him…. Like he didn’t care. Like he wasn’t even in the room…. We never discussed the possibility of something like this…. I just so blindly took Fury at his word. Daken…. I bet he was as surprised by today as I was.

And he didn’t fight. Why didn’t he fight??

I’m so lost in thought that I don’t hear Sue walking up behind me. She taps on my shoulder, turning me around to face her.

“Johnny...” she trails off. She doesn’t have the right words to comfort me. And she knows that.

She draws her hands back into her long black jacket.

Someone in the crowd murmurs something about the Fantastic Four… making me think that cursing at the elderly in public wasn’t such a good move.

“Did you do what I told you to?” Sue finally asks.

That makes me wince. “Yea...”

“For all six months?”

“Yea...”

“Make it go viral,” she states with determination. “Show the world what S.H.I.E.L.D. has done for its own personal gain.”

I just weakly nod.

“Come on.” She helps me to my feet. “It’s time to get you cleaned up.”

“I can’t... leave,” I mumble.

“I know honey.”

“I can’t stay either.”

Sue just nods, shouldering most of my weight up the elegant gates to the apartment entrance. “We’ll fix this,” she says confidently. “I swear it.”

 


	2. The Only Thing I'll Ever Ask Of You

**_1st month_ **

 

“And if I do?”

I stammer at the question. “If you... You mean you’re considering it?”

“If I do?” he repeats. He looks like a god- White shirt underneath an open black jacket on top of black washed jeans. When he agreed to meet me, I just thought to wear jeans and a polo... I’m kinda proud of the fact that they were clean jeans. I trip over these thoughts as I try to remember what Fury had told me to say.

“Well... we have reason to believe that several government officials dating back to the early civil war era have been involved with Romulus. We need to track them down. Make sure the corruption has ended with his death... And the only one who knows him better than anyone else- “

“Is me.” Daken swallows down some of his whiskey- something he started drinking more often as of late. I think it’s a nod to Logan... but I don’t push him to tell me.

“You’d be helping a lot of people- more and more mutants are coming out of his compound now that he’s dead... they’re telling awful stories about what went on there.”

“Mm-hmm,” Daken says, still drinking.

“You were there for almost sixty years... surely if anyone has the information they’re looking for it's you.”

“Dance with me.”

I've got to push through. Power through. He's got to say 'yes'. Fury needs him to say 'yes'. These innocent people need him to say 'yes'.

“And you’d be helping S.H.I.E.L.D. which could totally get you a pardon or some- wait, what?” Did he really just say that? Dance with him? He wants me to dance with him?

He smiles cockily. “Dance with me and I’ll do it.”

“Daken, this is serious.” You know it’s bad when I’m the one saying that.

“And I’m being serious.” He puts down his drink, turns away from the bar to face me, and leans in close to my face. “Dance with me and I’ll do it.”

My head starts to spin. “Alright.” I try to offer him a confident smile. I’ve done what Fury wanted me to do and all I had to do was ask... just ask. Anyone could have done this. So why me?

“You’re thinking too hard,” he whispers in my ear. “It’s simple. You want something from me, you have to give me something in return. And all I ask for is a dance.”

“It’s not that simple,” I try.

“It’s not that complicated either.”

“The procedure hasn’t been performed on anyone. They haven’t even tested it. There’s no way to say what might happen to you.” His total lack of caring has me thrown.

“I’m sure it’s very terrifying.” He closes his hand around mine and starts to pull me towards the crowded dance floor.

“You’re not worried? Not even a little bit?” I finally ask as he starts to guide me into some sort of dance. I’m so shocked that I’m not paying attention.

“If I say I’m worried, will it shut you up?” he asks over the music.

I can barely hear him. But I know he can hear me when I say, “You’re really not afraid? The idea of being someone’s test subject doesn’t frighten you in the least?”

“No,” he answers simply.

“Why?” I ask in a defeated manner.

“Johnny, I thought you wanted me to say yes to this,” he raises an eyebrow as he says this.

I dry swallow a few times. “That’s before you said yes. I’m your friend and I’m worried about you.”

“You,” he leans closer to my ear. “Are such a girl.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**_The present_ **

A lot rode on that dance. My feet were so numb and stiff... but he was all grace. I smirk to myself remembering it. He had a way of getting what he wanted, that’s for sure. Always has.

“You have them all?” Sue walks into the room, startling me for what’s got to be the hundredth time today.

“Yea. On the laptop.”

I’m sitting in the living room on the larger black couch. It sits catty-corner to a smaller love seat, both making a square in front of the TV. The TV isn’t as large as I would like- but then I’ve never seen him watch it on his own. The hardwood floors are cold underfoot. Making me wonder why he never got around to putting any rugs down.

I wish I had the energy to change clothes. I was outside in my shorts this morning..... not that the cold bothers me.... it's just... they probably of pictures of me half naked screaming at people in the snow. That doesn't look good for me.

Sue looks much more put together. She's wearing her 'I'm a mom but a cool mom' attire. An FF logo on her blue shirt- god we brand ourselves way too often. Kinda reminds me of driving racecars. Sponsors and all that. Everything we own has some kind of logo on it. Come to think of it, Daken was always teasing me about that.

It's another thought that makes me smile only to be seized by this ever gripping sadness. A reminder. This house is full of reminders.

“And he knew you were recording him?” She offers me a cup of coffee, but I don’t accept it, pushing it away with my hand in a small gesture. “More for me,” she says happily.

I raise an eyebrow. “He loved the spotlight more than you’d think he would.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed that about him.”

My eyes are getting misty again. I’m blaming it on... fuck. I don’t know what else to blame it on.

“He let you record even when it got bad?” she asks gently, prompting me to keep this going. I know she won’t look at the videos until I’m ready. But I also know she’s too curious to just let this go.

I smile sadly. “He let me do anything when it got bad. He trusted... me.” My voice cracks at the end.

“Johnny...” Sue starts. “You knew what Fury wanted when this started. You knew that Daken would cooperate with you- that he liked you. He told you as much. I know you thought Fury would keep his word, but that’s not the man he is.”

“I- I thought he would make an exception. When we started Daken was fine. When it got worse, I thought Fury would realize that the damage was enough to persuade him not to do anything stupid. I mean for fuck's sake; the man couldn’t leave the bedroom. You know that? The last few weeks- they’re on the tapes- they’re all taken in the bedroom. Fury was going to keep his word. I begged him to keep his word." I’m rambling. My mind is trying to make sense of everything. But it just can’t. People are supposed to keep their promises. They aren’t supposed to hurt someone else just as a means to an end.

Sue’s small hand graces my shoulder. “You may have done this thinking Fury had the best of intentions- and maybe in his own twisted way, he does. I, on the other hand, suspected the bastard was going to do something vile,” she sneers. “That’s why I encouraged you to record Daken. I wasn’t sure anything would come out of it at first, and I’m still not sure it will do anything, but you may be sitting on his one chance at freedom.”

I sigh, glancing at the MacBook sitting on the coffee table in front of me. It was his computer. He hasn’t touched it in months. We used to sit and watch the footage I took- him making sure it wasn’t too personal in the beginning- that it didn’t give too much away. He even went as far as to have me delete some of it. He didn’t know that I kept it. He never looked without me.

“This the laptop you were talking about?” Sue sets down her cup of coffee and picks up the computer. “It’s nice. Not really your style, though.”

“It was his.” One simple sentence and she drops the conversation.

“Let’s take a look at some of the footage,” she encourages, sitting beside me on the couch and opening the laptop. “Where is it?”

“It’s under... here let me show you.” I take it from her. Too many words to explain where I’d hidden it. I don’t have that many words left before I fall into utter and complete darkness.

“Start at the beginning,” She prompts.

“Duh,” I grouse.I click on the picture of the video still, waiting for the media player to load.

Then it happens- Suddenly. And I’m not ready for it. The sun is bright- The world is more cheerful. And he’s standing there by his car, not really paying attention to me. This is back when he bothered dressing himself. So, of course, he looks like he’s waiting for a roaming photographer to stumble upon him. His outfit- the dark jeans and the suit jackets- he used to wear those a lot. I like them. This one is green. I haven't seen him wear it in months.

On camera, my voice sounds strange and disconnected from myself. If my past self had known that all of this was going to happen, he wouldn't have done it. He would have ended it right there. “Are you posing?” I ask with a laugh.

“No, why?” His voice fills me with both joy and a great crushing guilt.

“You just stand like that.... Naturally?”

“Why do you care what I stand like?” Daken scoffs. “I could ask what the fuck you’re doing. Standing there like an idiot, in the driveway, while we wait for you to get in the car.” He takes a breath. “But I didn’t.”

“I’m fixing the camera,” I grouse. 

“And you have a camera why, exactly? ”

The past me laughs. “This is a groundbreaking procedure. They need to know everything about it. So I’m making a little... documentary.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure it will be riveting.”

“Get in the car, smart ass. ” 

“Finally,” he smiles, “After you.” 

“I have to put the camera up... I can’t drive with it- “

“You’re not driving,” he laughs.

I turn the camera around to get a shot of my own face. Pulling a face of mock awe. “He’s going to drive himself to his own procedure, knowing good and well that the doctors told him not to... how shocking. ”

He adjusts his sunglasses. “You’re not touching my car. Not now, not ever. Got it?”

“Sir yes sir.” I pan back to him, getting into the deep red sports car.

The camera starts to shake uncontrollably as I walk to the car, getting a good thirty seconds of my sneakers.

In the present, Sue laughs a little. “Wonderful camera work.” I try to smile but it doesn’t work. Knowing her, I'm sure she'll appreciate the effort.

The screen goes black for a second and then flicks back on to show him in the driver's seat and the road zipping by outside the window. He drives too fast. He always drives too fast. Wrecks don't scare him- he heals. It's a little careless for all those people around him- but hey- He's Daken. He doesn't really care. “You’re going to record me... driving,” he drawls.

“It’s interesting,” I insist. 

Daken laughs a little. “I doubt it.”

“Well you don’t use your turn signals, you cut off like three people, and you’ve somehow managed to go seventy through three school zones.”

He smirks again before turning on the radio. “Daken that’s going to fuck with the sound on the camera,” I whine.

He takes his eyes off the road, at stares at me. “Good. Then I won’t have to hear you bitch about my driving.”

“Eyes on the road!” I clamor. 

“Please,” he snorts. “I could do this blindfolded.”

There ’s silence in the car except for the radio. It’s some rock station. The wavering notes of Staind’s ‘It’s been a while’ fills the car for a second. There’s some radio static before the next song begins. And uck. It ’s the Foo Fighters. I hate the Foo Fighters.

I go to touch the dial, only to have my hand slapped away. “I like this one,” he says in a growl. So I suffer in silence as the first verse of “Everlong” plays. To my surprise, and to my present self’s surprise as well, when it gets to the chorus, he starts to sing along.

I don’t think he knew I was still recording. That or he didn’t care.

His voice is smooth, strong, almost exotic.

“You should sing more,” I say after a few minutes on the tape.

He turns his attention to me, takes his hand off the steering wheel and pushes it into the camera. “I’m done being recorded,” He growls.

“Oh god forbid someone hears you sing.”

“Turn it off, Johnny,” he warns.

“Fine. Fine.”

The screen goes black again. When it lights back up he ’s laying on a hospital bed, looking a little worn out, but otherwise okay.

“How are ya feeling?” Past me asks.

“Like someone has that damn camera on me after I told him not to.”

“This time it’s important,” I insist. “How’d it go?”

He stares off for a second. “Imagine someone shoving red hot pokers through your eye sockets repeatedly.”

“Ouch.”

“Yea. Ouch.”

I cough due to my dry throat in the present. “I should have stopped it then. He told them he was in pain and they did nothing.”

“You didn’t know Johnny.” She clicks on the videos, finding the next appointment, and playing it from there.

“You should let me film the procedure,” I say on camera to Doctor Samson.

“Then the telepaths doing it wouldn’t be anonymous, would they? We want them to remain unknown, in case- “he pauses here looking warily at the camera. “Just in case.”

“In case what?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Samson says dismissively. “Wait in the waiting room, if you want. Or we can call you when we’re done.”

“How far apart were the treatments?” Sue asks gently.

“Two weeks.”

“And did you notice anything in those two weeks?”

I think for a second. “He said he was having problems sleeping. I had to visit him every day, it was part of his contract.... Ya know, to make sure he didn’t bolt? He was exhausted most of the time.”

“He looks tired,” she comments, alerting me to the fact that the scene has changed to Daken in the hospital bed.

“Hey- “

“Turn the camera off Johnny,” he cuts me off.

“What? Why?”

“I’m not feeling well, okay?” he hisses. “Turn the camera off.” Daken looks down at his lap. “Please.”

“Would you say that this was where it started?” Sue asks calmly.

“Yea. That’s when it started,” I agree.

“You don’t have to watch anymore today.” My sister calmly closes the laptop. “Go get some sleep.” she kisses my forehead. “I’ll stay out here for tonight.”

“What about Reed?” Like I really care.

“What about him?” she asks coldly.

Her tone suggests that something major has gone on. “Trouble in paradise?”

“He shouldn’t have called Fury.” she looks down before looking back at me with a smile. “Go get some sleep.”

I don’t have the will to fight with her. She knows what’s best I guess.

 


	3. And Waste Away With Me

Sleeping was a bust. I’m exhausted, don’t get me wrong- but there’s no presence beside me. No body heat or pressure on the bed. It’s wrong. It’s all so wrong.

The night hours turn into morning and I find myself at his door again. I try, and I try, but I can’t make myself go past the door frame.

Yesterday I woke up with him in my arms. He had his face in my chest and was dozing off and on throughout the early morning. We laid there all day- like we did every day. Me just waiting for him to move…. Him allowing me to grace him with small comforts- things that helped calm him down. Small touches, gentle words- things that made him feel better.

Now there’s none of that. He’s gone. I’m staring at his empty bed wondering where I could have possibly gone wrong.

“It’s harder than it looks,” Sue says from behind me. “Losing someone, I mean.”

“How would you know?” I say in tone harsher than I meant for it to be.

“I lost you, Johnny. Remember?”

Oh…

“But Daken’s not gone,” she says with a smile. “He’s misplaced, but not gone. He’s somewhere safe, I assure you.”

“That’s worse,” I grumble. “He’s alive, and he’s hurting, and there’s not a single damn thing I can do about.”

“You’re doing what you can.” Sue pats my back. “If you’re not going to sleep, maybe you should pack up your stuff.”

“Why? We paid rent like five days ago. I’ve got like a month to decide if I want to leave or not.”

She looks at me with sad eyes. “Fury isn’t paying for this place while Daken’s gone… they’ve already paid to have the lease broken.”

“Did ever occur to Fury that maybe I lived here too?” I growl.

“Don’t fight it, Johnny,” Sue warns.

“I’m not leaving,” I sneer. “Fury can come drag me out.”

“The lease has been broken,” Sue says pointedly. “In other words, you’re being evicted.”

“Evict-” I swallow back my rage. It’s not Sue’s fault. “They can’t do that! This is his home! They can’t just decide that he can’t have it anymore!”

“Johnny, our hands are tied,” Sue tries to reason.

“What time is it?” I ask with determination setting in my features.

“About seven… why?”

“I’m going to go talk to the landlord.”

I storm past her and down the stairs across the living room floor and towards the door.

“Johnny!” she calls after me. “If this is about having a place to stay, you know you’re welcome back at the Baxter Building. You don’t need to do this!”

I turn around and face her. "It’s the principle of the thing. Fury thinks that he can make his mistake disappear by making Daken disappear. He’s wrong. Dead wrong. I’m going to go pay off the rent on this place. buy it or some shit.”

“Johnny do you know how expensive it will be?” Sue demands.

“I don’t care!” I turn to face her and there are honest to god tears in my eyes. “He’s a person. Just like you and me. And this isn’t fair. None of this is fair! And it’s… it’s my fault, Sue. What part of that can’t I get you to understand? He did this for ME. Fury sent me in because he knew Daken would listen. And he did. Do you know what he asked in return for doing this for me? Do you know what he gambled his sanity for?”

“I don’t,” she says silently, sounding as if she’s about to cry as well.

“A dance,” I say with an angry laugh. “He asked for a dance. With me.”

“Why would he…”

“I don’t know,” I cut in. “I don’t know why he did anything he did… I just know that he trusted me. I was the one person on this whole planet that he trusted… and I used him. I’m just as sick and twisted as they are.”

“This is… enlightening Johnny, but what does it have to do with buying his apartment?”

“If I buy it, it means he’s not gone. That there’s still some little part of him left in my life. It gives me hope that he’ll come back.”

Sue sighs loudly and puts her head in his hands before looking up at the ceiling for a long minute. “He’s not coming back," She says finally. "And maybe that’s for the best… just think about it logically.”

I whip my head in her direction. “What?” My voice is deadly and cold.

“Fury is getting rid of this place because he’s been put in a long-term care facility. The paper works been all but lost. You really need to start thinking this situation through.”

“I- I don’t…”

“We weren’t going to tell you until… you were a little more stable, but things are quickly getting out of hand.”

“Where.”

“Johnny I- “

“Where!”

“I don’t know!” she shouts. “None of us know!”

“Reed- “ I growl. "He knows. If he knows- YOU know."

“No, no. He doesn’t know either. Trust me,” she says sternly. “I’ve tried to get in touch with everyone I know. They’re more intimidated by Fury than they are loyal to me.”

I sink to my knees for the second time in as many days. “Why?” I whisper. "Why... why... why???"

“Huh?”

“Why. Just why? I don't understand.” I shake my head, trying to clear it. "I don't understand," I repeat. "I... don't understand."

“Why what?” Sue comes to my side, bending down next to me.

“Why me?” I sniff loudly tears trailing freely down my face. “He could have had anyone he wanted. Anyone! And he chose me.”

“People are prone to irrational thoughts when they think they’re in love,” Sue supplies. It sounds more like Reed than her.

Not that Reed... questions love in general. I mean- he loves Sue. Really loves her. He'd do anything for her. Anything.

He just... has said in the past- multiple times- that Daken is incapable of love. I never disclosed Daken and my relationship to them- not in full. Mainly because Reed disapproved so strongly.

“Think they’re in love?” I question her phrasing.

Her eyes are wide. “Oh, Johnny I didn’t mean- “

“So you’re saying that he only thought he was in love? That it didn’t mean anything to him?”

“Well… he’s just not shown himself to be capable of that caliber of emotion, Johnny. You knew that going into this. He may have gone off on a whim and decided to keep you around… but the signs point to the fact that he’s just not capable of that kind of – “

“I can’t do this.” I pull away from her and get to my feet.

“Johnny-” she starts.

“No!” I snap. “I called for my SISTER. My sister who would never doubt the capability of a human to love. I got her body and her husband's words. You weren’t like this last night. What changed, huh?”

“Well, Reed and I have talked it over…”

“You talked it over,” I scoff. “One conversation and you’re willing to go back on everything you told me last night.”

“I’m not going back on what I said. What’s happened to Daken is immoral and inhumane. I still think that justice should be served. I just don’t think you should be the one to do it.”

“Why not me?”

“Because you’re too attached,” she says sternly. “I didn’t know your true feelings until I watched a few more of those tapes…”

She spied on me!

“You watched more? You sneaky little- “

“You never told me your feelings. You never told me his feelings… you left us all in the dark. You should have told someone that you were getting so attached. Fury would have assigned someone else to the case.”

“Why can’t you just fucking be happy for me?” I ask brokenly. “Like a normal sister.”

She sighs deeply. “All I want is for you to just be happy, Johnny. And maybe Fury’s right- better to cut this off now than years down the road. And even if he did love you- really love you- he’d have to sit by and watch as you aged and died. Would you really wish that on him?”

I just collapse into tears. I can’t deal with this. Any of this. I thought she was on my side! Now I’m seeing that no one is. That I’m facing down this thing on my own. No team to back me up- hell I’m probably going to end up going against one of the biggest government organizations known to man and mutant alike.

“It’s going to be okay,” she says softly into my ear. “We’ll make sure you have enough time to recover and we’ll help you move on.”

“Move on?” I gasp. “There is no moving on. This was it! You understand that? This was IT. Game over. You want me to have something like with what you have with Reed? Caring so deeply about someone that the very thought of them in pain or agony is the worst thought that has ever occurred to you? A thought so very strong that it shakes you out of your sleep at night.”

“Johnny- “

“I watched him slip away from me,” I state really more to myself. “I fell in love, and then watched as he was drained of literally everything that made him himself... I had to tell him that things were going to be okay, even though I knew they weren’t. Hell, I had to keep taking him back to those ‘procedures’.”

“Those procedures are helping a lot of people- “

“It was torture!” I scream at her. “It was torture and you know it! They let Reed in afterward! You go ask him that after seeing the aftermath of one of those ‘procedures’ that that was anything but torture.”

“They did what they had to do. Yes, the procedures were painful… but that’s the price Daken willingly signed up for.”

“And the nightmares and the hallucinations and the weeks without sleeping or eating or even being able to take care of himself- did he sign up for those too?”

“You’re angry,” she says gently.

“Fuck yes, I’m angry!” I spit. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m on the side that doesn’t get you locked in a prison cell or dead in some unmarked grave,” she sighs. “Fury will not let you win this. If you pursue this, you will pay with your life. Reed’s talked to him. That’s what we were talking about last night. He’s warning us to contain you- or he’s going to do it.”

My mind doesn’t want to register this. Sure I figured Fury would be pissed if I retaliated- but not dangerous.

“I should have let him leave,” I state to myself. “A few weeks back, he begged me to go with him. Just to disappear. I should have let him.”

“Maybe,” she says honestly.

“I tried to stop them,” I state numbly. “I stuck around at one of the last visits… I heard the screams and pleas. And they didn’t stop. For hours they didn’t stop.” I shake my head. “It was like someone had ripped my heart out.”

“I know,” my sister says sweetly. “Trust me, I know. But for your own safety, Johnny, you need to drop this.”

“No,” I state numbly.

“Drop it. Just drop it.”

“I won’t drop this, it won’t go away, and Fury can do whatever the fuck he wants to do with me. If I go out I’m dragging him with me.”

“The footage,” Sue says gently. “Erase it.”

“It was YOUR idea!” I state dumbfounded.

“That’s before he started to threaten my family!” Sue shouts.

“I won’t erase it,” I say quietly

“Then I will.” She makes a move to head to the room where the laptop is, but I’m too fast for her. We’re racing through the house like a couple of idiots, trying to get to the Macbook.

I get there first, grabbing it with both hands and pulling into me like it was a football bound for a touchdown in the Super Bowl. “Now I’m going to walk out of here and do whatever the hell I want with this. It’s my right.” I have to remind myself to be a little more gentle with the computer. Its weight is something I find soothing- I'm kinda holding it too hard.

Sue just hangs her head. “Johnny you don’t know how dangerous this is getting,” she pleads. "Just erase it. You can't win this."

Sighing, I walk back over to her and place a kiss on her forehead. “I’m doing what’s right,” I state seriously. “I will accept any and all consequences that come with that.” I look at her dead on in the face. “I love you. You’re my sister and I will always love you. But I can’t stand with you on this. I won’t hide because Fury is making threats. What he did was wrong and he needs to be called out on it.”

“I understand-” she pleads. “Just not by you. Please. I won’t lose you again. Don’t make me go through that again.”

" I’m the only person on this whole fucking earth that he has. The only one he willingly let in. Not by means of telepathy or trickery. Just on pure good faith and trust. I will not fail him.”

“I can’t stop you,” Sue says through tears.

“No,” I smile at her. “But when have you ever been able too?”

“Where are you going to go?”

My smile fades. “Nowhere. I’m staying right here. If Fury wants to fight, we’ll do it right here, out in the open.” And I mean that. I’m prepared to do what I have to do to win this. If I go down, then I’ll make sure this story get’s told all over the internet. It’ll be a modern day Shakespeare play. All guts and gore right up to the very end.

This I’m promising myself. I will not stop or rest until I have fixed what I did wrong. I will go down and flames and ignite everything else on my way out. Everything. They may erase him- they may make me disappear- but fuck it they will know I was here. They will know he was here. They will know someone cared enough to say 'no'. And maybe... maybe that will leak to him-wherever he is. That I'm fighting for him still. That I'm not letting go.

I will go down in flames and take Fury with me. If I can't free him- I will die trying- I swear.

 


	4. I Throw Myself Into

“On the record, I can’t let you do this,” Tony says very seriously. “Misusing my connections would bring horrible consequences down on my company and going against Fury is a fucking horrible idea…. also, as an Avenger- with what you’ve just told me- I have a right to bring you in.” He raises an eyebrow. “That’s just on the record, though- off the record, it’s a stupid, dangerous, and horrible idea.” he smiles at this. “And I will do everything in my power to see it come to fruition.”

I sigh in relief. “Thank- “

“I’m not doing this for your boy toy,” Stark says suddenly. “I’m doing this because Fury deserves to be called out on this shit. So don’t go getting all sentimental on me.”

It’s been three days since my ‘conversation’ with Sue. I did go to the landlord. And I sank every cent I owned into keeping that apartment. Now I’m in Avenger Tower, talking to Tony Stark, trying to gather some ‘powerful’ people to help me. It doesn’t hurt that he’s a technical whiz with the money and access to global networking.

Tony's dressed for some charity event later today. His shirt is probably more expensive than all of my clothing put together give or take 1000 bucks.

I wish I'd thought to 'dress to impress'. But I'm desperate. I'm so desperate that I don't really care. I will beg with anyone and everyone to bring him home. I'll be beating down doors until my knuckles bleed. I swear.

We’re in a conference room- big glass windows, long modern looking table with plush chairs scattered about. The way the Avengers run their shit is just nice. It looks clean and professional. Fantastic Four stuff gets a little gummed up sometimes.

“You know that if this goes wrong, I’m going to deny ever having this conversation with you.”

“Yea, Tony. I figured.”

The man in front me smiles devilishly. “As long as we’re clear.”

“I have some files-” I begin

“Good! We need proof. On a major scale. How many copies do you have?” he interrupts. Tony Stark is kinda used to filling up a room. Usually so am I.

“Just one...” I mumble… feeling like he’s going to cut me off anyway.

“What? You have major proof for your whole entire case and you just have one copy!?”

Well..... I mean... it's not like anyone really knows I have it. Unless Sue told them. And I don't think she would have. It was her idea after all.

“Well- I mean it’s safe enough.”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me it’s not hidden away under some shitty security on your laptop.”

“...”

“It’s under some shitty security on your laptop. You’re gathering proof against S.H.I.E.L.D. and you’ve hidden said proof on an electronic device that they could hack in a matter of seconds.”

“Where else was I supposed to put it??” I growl.

Tony just stares at me before starting to count off on his fingers, “Flash drive, CDR, email it to someone- I don’t know kid. This is basic common sense.”

“Will you just tell me what I need to do, already?” I groan.

He goes to, but the doors opening on the other side of the room stop him.

“Johnny Storm...” An all too familiar voice says, making the hairs on my neck stand up.

“Cap,” I reply to the fully suited up man. I'd hate to think that I'm getting him just after a mission. I know how 'testy' I can be after my missions.

“You’ve done a lot of stupid things in your life- but this has got to be the stupidest by far,” Steve berates. “Fury is as pissed as I’ve ever seen him.”

Yea I've kinda guessed that. He doesn't like it that I didn't just roll over. More importantly, someone close to me has been in contact with him. I don't know who- but he knows more than I think he should.

“Yea, I figured that when I saw the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents casing my house,” I say with a tense chuckle.

“You’re lucky that’s all they’re doing,” he says seriously. “Reed said you had information that doesn’t belong to you... Fury is going to do everything in his power to see that it is returned.”

Reed? Sue told him. He’s... I don’t even know if I can be mad at him. He’s trying to protect me I suppose. He’s just being shitty about it. Really shitty. “That information belongs to me,” I growl. “Fury is lying.”

“I’m not saying that he is or he isn’t,” Cap says sternly, brow scrunched up as if he’s in thought.

“You here to bring me in then?” I say warily. I didn’t want a fight when I came here and I definitely don’t want a fight with Captain America.

“I like to hear both sides of a story before taking action,” Steve says evenly. “I’m not going to ask you what you took. I’m going to ask why you took it. And if you’re smart, you’ll answer truthfully.”

Tony coughs awkwardly, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here.

“Cap it’s not that big of a deal,” Tony says calmly. “Just let him go. I already told me we couldn’t help him. He’s leaving.” He’s walked behind Cap. He raises a dark eyebrow and mouths ‘go with it’ to me.

“Ah-“

“I can’t do that, Tony,” Steve says authoritatively. “Sit down Johnny.”

I look at Tony who shrugs. Pulling out one of the rolling chairs, I sit down awkwardly.

Steve takes a seat in another one of the chairs. “You’ve got five minutes to explain why I shouldn’t arrest you for stealing government documents.”

“It’s a complicated story., I start.

“Give me the basics.”

I take a deep breath, going into an in-depth description of the last six months. Sparing no detail. It lasts more than five minutes, I’m sure- but he doesn’t stop me. I press past all the shit that’s welling up in my head- staying focused and calm. I need to be direct and to the point. I can’t do this whole ‘woe is me’ deal. Something has to happen. If I’m going to be the only one to make it happen- then I’m going to have to have one hell of a backbone.

When I stop, he’s quiet.

“And the ‘Intel’ I ‘stole’ was the footage I’ve been taking on my own camera for the last six months. And if I give it to Fury, then I will never see-” I stop. I can’t continue. I’m just too worn out. And now it looks like I’m going to be serving jail time.

He’s quiet.

“Sounds pretty legit,” Tony mumbles.

Steve says nothing.

“It’s been a hell of a ride,” I try to counter the anxiety in the room.

“Cap- I don’t think the kid is lying,” Tony tries again.

Cap looks between the two of us and raises an eyebrow. “The first amendment guarantees freedom of speech,” he says quietly. “It’s your right as an American citizen to say what you feel needs to be said. If the footage is yours, and solely yours, then Fury has no right to it.”

Tony smiles across the room. “Well, would you look at that? Cap is going against Fury. This never ends well.”

“However,” Steve continues, “it will be hard explaining that to Fury... and coming to the Avengers for help isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

Great. I’m not being arrested- but I’m not gaining any allies either. “Umm... so where do I go?”

Steve actually smiles. “I happen to know a young man who can set you up with everything you’ll need... don’t worry son. If you feel this strongly about this, and you have the proof to back it up- you will be heard. I will make sure of it.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So... you’re doing all of this for Wolverine’s son who hasn’t done a single thing for anyone else up until the point where you talked him into doing this memory thing for S.H.I.E.L.D?”

“Yes.” I’m so tired of explaining myself. I need to put it all on a powerpoint or something.

I should have thought of this first- however. This is almost guaranteed.

“Because the process drove him insane….”

“Yea.”

“And somewhere in playing nursemaid, you fell in love with him?” He raises an eyebrow.

For once I feel awkward. I’ve known Peter for years…. Admitting that I’m seeing another man is a little unnerving.

“Right.”

“And you need to make this go viral... because you think if the world sees what Fury’s done that he’ll have to undo it?”

“Right,” I repeat.

Peter looks at me while arching his fingers in front of him. “Have you ever considered that what you’re doing might have a negative effect on Daken? That whatever you do to Fury, he’ll turn around and do something worse?”

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh, Shit. How could I be so stupid? “Fury wouldn’t- “

The brunette in front of me stares at me sternly. “He’s already driven the man insane, basically. And sometimes that can be reversed. But if he’s as bad off as you say he is- a little more damage could make him irreparable. And then when you do get him back- barring Fury flat out killing him, which is a possibility- he might be too far gone to even know who you are.”

I would start crying again if I hadn’t actively made myself stop. Strong front. No tears in front of anyone…. Except for my reflection. Putting up this front makes for some massive breakdowns when I’m on my own. “What should I do?” I ask weakly.

“Honestly- I don’t know enough about the situation to give you an answer. What I can do for you is take a look at the footage you have, make some copies, and then get back to you.”

I feel like shoving my head into the wall. But aloud I say, “Thanks, Webhead.”

“Sure.” The man looks around his small apartment. “You can go lay on the couch or something while you wait. I’ve got the new x-box, it’s pretty cool.”

“Thanks... but I don’t feel much like playing games.”

He nods. “Then go get some sleep. You look like shit.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Exhaustion finally won me over. I’m sleeping for the first time in days and it feels odd. I wish I could say that it's a peaceful sleep- but then I'd be lying. Nightmares and memories are mixing together in a horrid display on the back of my eyelids. Enough to out scare any horror movie I’ve seen before.

‘Run away with me’.” he’d begged. “Let’s just go. Please.”

“We can’t.”

“I’m begging you. I don’t have much time left.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked away from me.

“Daken, what do you mean, 'you don’t have much time left’?”

Those eyes locked back onto mine. “I’m fighting a losing battle.” His voice was broken as he said this. “This is killing me. And there is no relief from it.”

“Hey,” I went to him, putting my hands on his face. “Look at me. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get through this... you only have a few treatments left and- “

He got up from the bed and walked to the balcony, arms folded across his chest. “I can’t,” He said seriously. “I love you, but I can’t.”

“You have to- “

“Don’t make me do this!” he pleaded, voice raw with emotion.

“Just give it four more weeks.” I bargained. “Four more weeks, two treatments left, and then we’ll go. We’ll go wherever you want. We’ll stay for however long you want. No questions asked.”

He turned away from me, looking out the open door to the balcony. “I don’t have four weeks.” He had said quietly.

I jolt awake, sweat soaking my blue t-shirt. The room is dark now. The only light is coming from the glow of Peter’s computer screen and it’s making an odd sort of alien effect with the lighting in the room...

“Hello?” I call out into the darkness.

“Hey,” Peter’s voice sounds a little rough. He’s somewhere further back into the apartment. But with the lights off I can’t really tell.

“You okay?” I'm a horrible friend. I shouldn't have involved him in this. No one other than Sue has actually sat down and looked at the footage. And she didn't even make it all the way through. Things got really rough towards the end.

“I- uh- made your copies,” he says softly.

Not liking how he’s talking, I nod. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He’s standing in his open kitchen, coffee mug in hand as he turns on the lights. “Fury is going to kill you if that gets out.”

“I know.”

“And you’re going to do it anyway?”

“I have to...”

He nods. “Then have some of this.” he motions to the coffee in his hand.

“Coffee?”

“It’s mostly Whiskey at this point.” He points to the mostly drained liquor bottle sitting on the counter.

“I see.” I stand to my feet shakily and walk over to him, pouring myself a half cup of a coffee and a good bit of liquor. The liquor stings going down, but it’s a relaxing feeling.

“You really love him,” Peter says after a minute. “Like you actually love him.”

I don’t respond. Just keep sipping, hoping to god that this stays down.

“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” he says quickly. “I just didn’t know you swung that way.”

“Ya well... until him, neither did I.”

“It’s fucked up,” he says darkly. “The tape I mean. It’s really fucked up.”

“Yeah? How far did you get?” I’m curious as to how long I’ve been out- that’s why I’m asking. I don’t have to see the tapes to know what’s going on- it’s permanently ingrained in my memory.

“To that scene in the kitchen,” he shudders. “So much blood.”

I shudder too. “Yea... I didn’t think that one would show up too well. Seeing as I dropped the camera on the floor.”

“What was he doing?”

I cough into my hand, wondering if I should answer. “He tried to give himself a lobotomy,” I state into the silence. “He tried using his claws.”

“Ouch,” Peter winces.

“Yup. Imagine coming home and walking into that.”

“How many of those ‘procedures’ did he have left after that?”

“Two.” Ironic that the nightmare I just had took place two days before the scene Peter had been watching. “It got really rough towards the end... a few days after that he stopped talking altogether. I could get him to say a little to me... but other than that he was gone.”

“Did he hurt himself like that often?” Peter asks quietly.

“Yea... I was constantly taking things out of the house. Razors, knives, things like that. But what can you do when you can’t take out his claws? He can access them anytime he wants.” I think to my bandaged up shoulder. I really should change that bandages and take a look at it. I just haven’t had time. “And sometimes when he doesn’t.”

“You ever end up on the receiving end of those things?”

I sigh. “He would go into a psychotic state... kinda like a break from reality. Things didn’t make sense to him. He was constantly in a state of terror and confusion and-” I stop there. “Long story short, he thought I was someone else.”

Peter looks off to the side as if considering his next sentence. “That part... where you sang to him- you know what I’m talking about?”

That makes me smile. “Yea.” I used to sing to Daken all the time. At first, he tried to make me stop- but it calmed him down so wonderfully. In the end, he’d ask for it. We’d be lying in bed and he’d barely whisper his request.

“I want to do something with that. If you don’t mind. It was a personal moment and I understand if you want to leave it out... Plus the shot isn’t that good. It looks like the camera was an afterthought.... But other than that it was very powerful. And we’ll need a few shots of you explaining what’s happened... think of it like a documentary. You’ll need to narrate what’s going on or people won’t know what they’re looking at.”

“Got it.” The task sounds a little daunting. I thought... I don’t know. I thought we would take the raw files and just spread them around the internet. I didn’t think about editing and shit.

“Why that song?” he questions randomly. “It showed up several times in the footage. Why?”

“I don’t know... we heard it on the way to the first procedure. He said he liked it. Then we heard on the way back from the second procedure. After that he bought it on his phone... it seemed to calm him down. He started to have me to sing it to him when things got really bad. His mind was losing everything- except for that. It seemed to ground him...”

“The power of music,” Peter laughs.

I have to laugh too. “I know it sounds ridiculous- but it worked. And I was desperate for anything that worked.”

“I understand,” Peter says sympathetically.

“So... you’re going to help me?” I ask nervously.

He sighs, putting his head in his hands. “Fury is literally going to kill you. I can’t stress that enough.”

“Hey, you’ve done enough already- “

“But you need someone to back you up,” he talks over me. “And this is really, really fucked up. So...”

We stand there in silence for a second, nursing the bitter concoction in our mugs.

“Your camera work sucks, by the way,” Peter laughs. “The footage is almost too bad to use.”

“Yeah? Like you could have done better.”

“I can. Cameras are sorta my job.” He drains the rest of his cup. “Follow me,” He instructs leading the way back to the computer.

“Okay...”

He points to his computer’s webcam. “I want you to talk into the camera... just like you were just talking to me. Think of it as a press conference. I know you’ve got quite a few of those in your bag. But at the same time, keep it on a personal level.”

“Sure thing,” I state unsurely.

“Take your time,” Peter encourages, before clicking a few buttons. I see myself on the screen- really see myself for the first time in a few days. And I hate what I see. I look tired and pale. Ghostly even.

Taking a deep breath, I start from the beginning.

 


	5. I'm Over My Head

_**1st month (and 1/2)** _

 

I knock on the door impatiently. “If you’re leaving me out here on purpose- I’ll kick your ass!”

There’s no response.

Oh shit. If he bolted- Fury is going to have my head! He was here yesterday… he couldn’t have gone that far. I just need to look for some hints as to where he’s-

“You are the loudest person in the history of mankind,” he grumbles as soon as he opens the door.

“And you-“ I take in the sight of him. “Aren’t dressed." I lose whatever quip I was going to use. "Why aren’t you dressed?”

“I’m sleeping,” he snorts. “You’re lucky I have pants on at this point.” Then he raises an eyebrow. “Though that would be more fun than you standing here bitching at me.”

Once again he’s made me blush. I stumble over words as he just laughs.

“Relax Johnny. I won’t ravage you anytime soon. Your modesty can still be intact.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun, Daken, I really am. But you have an appointment in-“ I look at my phone. “Ten minutes. And you’re not dressed.”

His smile fades. “That’s today?”

I sigh loudly. “I told you this yesterday…. And the day before that… and the week before that- hell it’s on a note taped to your fridge!”

“I forgot,” he says more to himself.

“Well.. get a move on. Come on! Let’s go!” I push past him into the apartment only to notice something disturbing. “This place reeks, Daken. What have you been doing in here?”

He shrugs and closes the door, turning around and going up the stairs at a leisurely pace.

“You can’t take thirty minutes- either!” I yell after him.

Good god, that smell. If it’s bothering me, I know it must be bothering him. I walk around the apartment until I find the source of the odor. “Yuck,” I say aloud. “Daken why haven’t you taken the damn trash out? It’s smelling up the whole house.”

“It’s not that bad,” he calls back, voice muffled by the distance.

I grumble to myself as I tie the red tabs of the white bag together, lifting the overfilled bag from its black container, and holding it airborne.

“I’m going to take this out!” I yell up the stairs. “When I get back you had better be ready!”

The dumpster is around the back of the building. I have forever to think about how odd he’s acting. How… odd I’m acting around him. I know we’re friends. I mean- I think we’re friends. But there’s something there. Something that makes me squirm when I think about it too hard.

I’m thinking about this, halfway to the dumpster when a loud ‘rippppp’ steals my attention.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I yell. The trash bag hangs from my hand in pieces- all of its contents scattered on the pavement of the parking lot. I’m honestly thinking about just leaving it when something shiny glints in the sunlight. Intrigued, I nudge aside some ordinary trash things, to find a long, slender piece of glass. I keep moving items aside and find more of them. Two pieces, three, four, five, until there are ten pieces. “What the hell?” It takes me a second to realize what I’m looking at. “A mirror? He threw away a mirror?” I keep looking at those glittering pieces like they hold the key to some mystery. “It doesn’t look like it broke in the trash… it was already broken when he threw it away-“

“That’s just fucking creepy,” A voice says behind me.

“Daken!” I jump. “Don’t sneak up on me!”

“Why are you going through my trash?” he asks with a hint- just a hint- of distress in his otherwise steady voice.

“The bag ripped because you threw away fucking glass shards! Why the hell did you break a mirror?”

Daken’s eyes go a little colder than they previously were. “I didn’t break it. It broke on its own. And, being a reasonable person and not wanting to step on glass repeatedly, I threw it away. You want to question me about any more garbage- or can we go?”

I don’t buy this. He’s acting too strange today. He’s even dressed strange. Plain blue jeans and a white shirt. Not really going out of his way to impress anyone. Hair slightly unkempt. I mean it’s a Mohawk… it’s always a little wild. But he usually as a way of taming it into something that looks… I don’t know. Why the hell do I care about what his hair looks like? Why do I know enough to notice the difference?

“We’re late,” I state distractedly. “I’ll call them from the car and tell them we’re on the way.”   
“Fine.” He walks off towards the vehicle without another word.

When we’re in the car and I’ve made the call, I watch him carefully. “You know if something was going on… like they said it might- you could tell me, right?”

“Good god Johnny. It was a broken mirror! Not a box of bloody razor blades. Things break! It’s not a cry for help or anything you’re twisting it into being.” He turns those eyes on me, and I swear I see a hint of panic. “Drop it, okay?”

“Why? Why are you so adamant that I drop this?”

“Why are you so adamant that you don’t?”

“Daken…”

“Look, Johnny, I like you. I don’t get to say that about a lot of people. I want to keep liking you.” He quickly flicks his eyes back to the road. “Drop it.”

“Fine,” I say quietly. My heart skipped a beat at his last sentence. He likes me. He admitted to liking me. Daken hates everyone. Everyone but me- apparently.

He sighs into the car. “Stop sulking.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. So stop it.”

I look at what I can see of his face. ‘You’re starting to act a little strange,” I finally say.

I expect a retort, but it doesn’t come.

“You’re not sleeping, I haven’t seen you eat anything in a few days, and you’re even starting to dress differently.”

“You said we didn’t have time for me to get dressed like I usually do,” he growls.

“You would have if you had gotten up when you were supposed to,” I counter.

He laughs coldly. “You’re bitching at me because I overslept now?”

“I’m bitching at you because I’m concerned.” I snap. “You’ve been told what could happen. You have been told the warning signs. And if you are experiencing any of those- you were supposed to tell me. And I don’t think you did. I think you’re hiding something. You say you like me- then stop lying to me!” I berate. I’m probably the only person who's done this and lived. It’s kind of exhilarating.

There’s complete silence in the car for a good twenty minutes before he says, “I broke the mirror, you were right. I saw something in it and I broke it. Are you happy now? Can you go back to not being mad at me?”

“What did you see?” I ask in shock.

“Something you would never understand,” he says cryptically.

We’re in front of the hospital now. I use the term ‘hospital’ lightly. It’s more of a lab really.

“Daken…” I say as he pulls to a stop. “This is only your third treatment- tell them that things are getting a little… weird. Please. Maybe they’ll reconsider this.”

He smirks. “I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed to throw away all of their planning and million dollar budgets because I saw something in my mirror and didn’t wake up on time.”He gets out of the car and starts to walk before the door. “Don’t touch my car,” he warns as he departs.

\------------------------------------

It’s been hours, literal hours of waiting. I’ve gotten my camera out and played around with it. Bothered Samson some more… got some on the pretty nursing staff to pose with me. But nothing can take the edge off of this overwhelming anxiety I’m feeling.

The waiting room is small and cramped. Dark and gloomy.

All of its uncomfortable metal chairs are lined up in two rows, facing each other.

All these chairs for a place that I'm willing to bet doesn't get much business.

They all seem to point to a large set of metal doors on the right side of the room, a few feet from the reception desk.

“He’s done,” Samson says from the door. “You can stop harassing the employees now.”

I zoom in on him. “And how did it go?”

He looks warily at the camera again. “That’s between the professionals and the client.”

“I’m a friend of the client,” I insist. “And I’m trying to record the progress of this ‘groundbreaking procedure’ for future generations to come. So surely you can make an exception.”

“You are nothing more than a glorified babysitter,” he growls. “You can quote me on that.” He pushes away from me, heading down the hall.

“Don’t think I won’t!” I call after him.

A young nurse motions for me to follow her down another hallway. I try to keep the camera off of her ass- though it seems to have a mind of its own.

“Hey,” I say as I enter the cold room.

He doesn’t answer.

“I’ve got to record the usual questions…” I warn.

Daken continues to stare out of the window. “How did it go?”

He takes a deep breath. “How do you think it went?”

He looks tired. Very tired. His voice is a little harsh too as if it’s recovering from having been lost. His healing factor.. if he had lost his voice, it would fix it- right? The question is, what exactly did they do to him to make him lose his voice in the first place?

“You look rough.”

“I feel worse.”

A part of me is breaking inside. And that’s what it takes for me to finally connect all the dots within my own mind. Love… I’m starting to feel some sort of love towards him. I don’t know if it’s ‘oh you’re my friend and I love you’ or if it’s ‘I love you’ love you. But it’s something. The idea of him being in pain is bringing me actual distress. And I know it’s stupid. Fury warned me about his pheromones… about how he could manipulate people. He told me not to get too close. But… I honestly don’t think I can stay away. It’s like a magnetic force.

Thinking along those lines, I ask, “Do you use your pheromones on me?” I have to know. Do I love him? IS he making me feel this way? Is it real...

I have to know if it's real. I have to.

He has the grace to look thrown. “No,” he says in confusion.

“Why not?”

“Johnny this is stupid. I don’t like this game and you know it.”

“I’m not playing this time.” He’s referring to me pulling the camera out recently and asking a bunch of off the wall questions. It’s fun. It annoys him. And I get to know him a little better in the process- given that he’s telling the truth when he answers.

“Well, then I don’t have to answer,” he says coldly.

“You have too. You signed a contract that said you’d do whatever this procedure required. This is part of that.”

“I really doubt that-“

“Why not?” I ask desperately. “Why don’t you use your pheromones on me?”

“Because I don’t need too- alright?” he snaps. “I don’t feel threatened by you. You don’t lie, you don’t try to control me- you’re not a threat.”

Why does that make me feel so… horrible?

“So it’s a defense mechanism…” I say more to myself.

It's real.

Oh, my god. It's real.

It's... I have to figure this out.

This is going to take some soul searching.

He just lays his head back on the pillow. “I want to go home now,” he says- though it’s almost a whisper. When he straightens back up, he looks at me. “Take me back to the house.”

“Take you-“

“Yes.”

“You know that would mean touching your car- right?” I tease. Though I’m a little worried.

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t- since when do you not care about someone else driving your car? You won’t even let the valet park it for you!”

“Stop yelling,” he actually pleads. “Just drive me to my apartment- alright?” When I stand there in shock, he adds, “Johnny, please. I don’t want to be here anymore. The doctor said I could go when I was ready- I’m ready, I want to go, and I want you to drive me. So…” he motions to the door. “Can we go?”

“Sure,” I mumble, feeling like something important has happened. That I’ve actually captured something important on film.

“Alright then.” He swings his legs over the bed, but stops halfway through getting up- he clutches his head in between his hands. “Oh god,” he whimpers.

“Daken?” I’m too afraid to move. “What’s wrong?”

“Too loud,” he whispers. “It’s too loud.”

“What is?” I move a little bit closer. “What’s too loud?”

This is real.

All of it.

He stares at me through the cradle he’s made with his arms. “Turn the camera off,” he demands. “Turn the camera off and help me to the car. I can’t stay here for another minute.”

“Alright…” I turn the camera off and reach for him, my hands shaking.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The present.  
I haven’t smoked a cigarette since I was a teenager. But here I am, on the balcony that he loved so much, and I’ve gone through half a pack.

I finally talked myself into cleaning up his room. Someone had to do it. Someone had to turn the lights on too. This room’s been in the dark for far too long.

It’s so cold out here that my breath comes out in small, visible, puffs- mixing in with the cigarette smoke until I can’t see where it begins and the smoke ends. It’s a circle. A deadly circle. Breathe out life- breathe in poison. Kind of fitting for the mood tonight.

Usually, I'd be heating myself up- it takes very little energy and very little thought and lets me deal with frigid temperatures that would be bothersome otherwise. Tonight, however? I want to feel the cold. I want to see the snow. I want to see the ice. I want to see my breath- to make myself realize that I'm still breathing.

My phone buzzes a few times and I almost don’t answer it. But then I remember that Peter might need to get in touch with me- so I fish it out. Unfortunately, it’s not Peter. It’s a number I don’t recognize. I could use someone to talk to I guess. Even if it's a wrong number or a telemarketer, it will be a few moments of human interaction. I answer the phone. "Hello?"

“Hear you have some dirt on me.” Fury drawls in form of greeting.

“You bastard,” I growl.

He laughs. “Let’s leave the name-calling out this, shall we? You know I’m a pretty generous guy… it being the Christmas season and all.” he pauses letting his words sink in. “For example, I’ve got you a few gifts. The first being that I haven’t done anything to the Baxter building… yet. The second being that I haven’t evacuated your building and bombed it to the ground. And the third- oh I think you’re really going to like this one. It’s on your doorstep. Just had an agent drop it off. I want you to take a look at it before you go doing anything stupid.”

The phone dies in my ear with a small ‘click’.

And I’m sweating despite the cold....and I never sweat. This could be a trap. This could be anything nasty or vile. And the way he was talking- it probably is. But… I find myself going down the stairs and to the front door anyway. On the doorstep is a small box. Nothing suspicious about it. I open it up with numb fingers and there’s a piece of paper folded around something, with a little weight to it.

The note, which is what the paper is, reads, “I want you to think really carefully about just who you’re fucking with. I have something you want… you have absolutely nothing but a few videos that may or may not do a little something to my name. Think real hard.”

The object the note was wrapped around turns out to be a flash drive. And my heart sinks. I already know what’s going to be on it. I find myself running, full speed down the street- not bothering to close the door behind me. I'm running, getting honked at by cars and flipped off by their drivers... I keep running through the cold, breath coming out in short bursts of white vapor. I don’t stop for like thirty minutes. I’m exhausted when I arrive back at Peter’s apartment. And I don't really know what I'm doing here. I haven't thought of a plan... I just need someone else to watch this. Someone to warn me about what I'm getting into.

He opens the door skeptically. “Johnny? Hey man-“ he pauses, “Did you run here or something?” When I nod, bent over and clutching my knees while I catch my breath he swears loudly. “What did he do?”  
He already knows. He knows something is up.

“You were- you were right. Fury just sent me this.” I have to pry the small black jump drive from my sweaty palms to show him. “I don’t know what’s on it. I can’t look at what’s on it. I need you to… to at least warn me of bad it is.”

Peter runs his hands through his hair in a disturbingly fast motion. “Sure thing man. Like I said, I’ll do anything to help.”


	6. Out Of Her Head

Peter can’t calm me down. He hasn’t been able to since I got here. I’ve been freaking out for three hours- I can tell because I keep checking my phone.

The thought being that if I check it, Fury will call back and say this is a joke. So far all I've gotten are about thirty calls from Sue- all of which I am ignoring.

Peter showed me what was on the flash drive, working under the impression that if I knew what was on it, I would calm down. He was wrong. Dead wrong. After seeing what little surprises the flash drive held for me, I downed most the bottle of whiskey from earlier on my own- making myself terribly sick in the process.

Now all I can think about his him hooked up to those machines…. How sick he got. How uncaring those animals were.

Another sob escapes my throat. Louder than the last one.

“Hey…” Peter tries to soothe, he’s got his arm wrapped around me awkwardly as we sit perched carefully on the couch- more so towards the bathroom than when this had started. Just in case I need to make a run for it again. “At least you know he’s alive.” That only serves to rile me up more. “Those treatments were barbaric and cruel but he survived. They’ve been used in the past…and-“

“And how about the dissection? Do they use that to treat- whatever it is they’re saying he has?” I spit at him.

They never gave an official diagnosis in the hour-long ‘lecture’-because that’s what it was, a lecture. They never said why they were hurting him. More importantly- they never told him why they were hurting him. And he asked. God did he ask.

The woman on the footage talked in the same monotone voice as she described and then showed what they were doing. It reminded me of a biology course I took back in college. Only this time I cared immensely about the object of her fascination. This wasn’t a little frog or a fetal pig… this was a human being. And they were talking like there wasn’t any difference.

The woman who was talking was a normal looking woman. Looking at her you wouldn’t guess that she’d be up for experimenting on humans. In the beginning, she had said, “Due to the mutated “x-gene” the patient seems to heal from any and all afflicted damage- be it life threatening or otherwise. In the next set of tests, we have been permitted to use more archaic forms of treatments to try and heal the patient. Since usual forms of treatment have been useless, such as medication and psychotherapy due to his unique physiological structure, we’ve obtained permission from his legal guardian, as it were, to continue.”

Psychotherapy? They haven't given therapy enough time to work! They just ruled it out!

And the place he was in.

The setting.

God.

It screamed 'archaic'... just like those so-called 'procedures' the woman described.

Archaic is apparently a word meant to say, ‘whatever dark, unspeakable things we did in the past few centuries to the mentally ill, we’re going to do again. And it’s okay to do because he’ll just heal from it.’ Because his ‘legal guardian’ a.k.a. Fury had said it was okay.' He had had to read a sheet of information about these procedures and sign off on it. The whole time planning on taping the procedures and sending it to me.

I was so nauseated when we started. Before I even took a sip of alcohol. Peter had warned me to sit down. He’d said it was pretty bad. But I still wanted to think the best of Fury. I wanted to think that he would have some human decency left in him. I was wrong. When it comes to Daken, that man doesn’t give a flying fuck. He was a tool. A prop. And now, his usefulness is at an end and he’s ‘evidence’. And evidence has to be contained. You can’t have it leaking out to the wrong people, after all.

Poor Daken wasn’t able to fight for himself when they took him and I know he sure as hell can’t fight now. This footage showed me as much. All the things they did to him- and the claws never came out once. No biting remarks. No attempts at escape. And I saw a few openings. If I noticed them, I know he did.

They drilled holes in his skull. Drained his blood. Nearly drowned him on some occasions. Shocked him until his heart stopped working- repeatedly. Then topped it off with a lobotomy or two… of course, none of this had any effect. If anything the anxiety of watching them set up the next ‘treatment’ made him worse. I know that look on his face towards the end. He’s not even there anymore. Completely shut off. The doctors actually stopped what they were doing because they thought he had died for real.

“Flip it off!” A man had said quickly. “God damn it! Flip it off!”

The machine stopped whirring slowly. The woman from before rushed to the head of the operating table.

“He’s unresponsive… er,” she’d added. “But he’s breathing.”

“No screaming- no pleading… he’s just laying there.” The man said in awe. “Is it possible that he’s cut off the pain receptors in his brain?” he looked excited. “Can he do that?”

“We won’t know.” The woman said harshly. “Fury said not to touch his head or face beyond what we’ve already done. His body, however…” she paused. Smiling to herself she continued with, “I’m interested as to how it was able to hold the ink of the tattoo. I think a quick dissection would prove very beneficial.”

“Doctor I have to say that I strongly disagree with all of this.” Said a nurse, while she ran a cloth over Daken’s forehead.

“Unfortunately, Nurse, We have orders. And we will follow these orders until they are fulfilled. Now you can leave… or you can stay. It really doesn’t matter.”

The woman had looked at Daken, coated in blood and sweat, and then turned heel and left

“She should have stayed.” I grouse. We’re not watching the video. But I’ve been saying the same things since we played it. He knows who I’m talking about.

“Most people don’t see that much blood in a lifetime,” Peter says simply from his spot beside me. “Let alone in the span of a few hours.”

After the dissection, the screen went black and Fury appeared. I remember every single word, and exactly how he said it. “I would love to say that this was a one-time-only occasion… but due to his mutation, this has to be a daily routine. The good news being he’s the least violent patient we have here. And don’t worry… we didn’t let them fuck up the tattoo too badly. I figured you’d be grateful for that. ” Fury smirked. He fucking smirked. He’s showing me all of these awful things and has the nerve to act like it was some sort of joke! “Now… Storm, you hand over whatever information you and Parker have been working on and this can end. He’ll still have to rot in here- don’t misunderstand me- but I promise that they won’t touch him anymore. That’s the best deal you’re going to get. You do know that at any given time, I can just storm in, take it from you- beating the hell out of you in the process, probably having the grounds to obtain you- but I’m not doing that. This is a scene. You’ve already alerted more people than necessary… drop this, without any more public attention. This will be my only warning.”

Now I’m on Peter’s couch bawling. God. I said it wouldn't cry anymore. I said...Does drunkenly sobbing on a friends couch really count, though?

I think of Daken’s eyes… they used to be so... so much more. Now they’re just dead. There’s no spark there. Thinking of those eyes, just brings me back to the lobotomy I just finished watching and I end up running to the bathroom again.

I barely make it to the toilet before I’m losing my lunch… from three or four days ago. God, I have to start eating. If for nothing else to make sure that when I vomit, something can actually come up.

“You fucking bastard,” I say softly. Then louder, “You hear me!?" I demand, feeling safe from my spot at the toilet. “I’m calling you the fuck out! You want to fight? Take it to me! I dare you! I fucking-“ I break down there.

He can’t hear me. And even if he could, he wouldn’t just take it out on me. I’m not the one he fucked up. Well not directly anyway. Daken’s the one who’s now neatly labeled as evidence.

“You done screaming at my toilet?” Peter asks. I didn’t realize that I’d left the door open.

“I have to stop,” I say suddenly. “If I go forward with this, they’re going to do this to him daily. By the time I find him it’ll be too late.”

“Go forward with it,” Peter says bending down and rubbing my shoulder. “They’re already doing this to him daily. They probably started the first day he got there. That’s not a threat, Johnny. It’s reality. It’s already happening- so he can’t threaten you with it. Get it?”

“What?”

“The documentary is ready!” Peter says in an annoyed manner. “We can post it on Twitter, Youtube, Tumblr, Facebook- god everywhere we possibly can! And people will see what’s happened and stop this.”

“And how do you know anyone will take the time to watch it?” I ask finally. “How do we know that this plan will work? It’s not even MY Plan. It was Sue’s… and-“

“It’ll work.” A new voice surprises me, as my sister literally blinks into existence behind Peter.

I wish I could say I was surprised. However, that startle just makes me throw up again.

“What are you doing here?” I demand after I’m done, knowing this must sound ridiculous- a man making orders while his head is in the toilet. “How long have you been there? And why the hell do you always do that to me!?”

“Slow down Johnny, I can’t answer all of those at one time.”

“Well try,” I demand harshly, straightening myself up, elbows placed on either side of the toilet lid, hands clasped over the back of my head.

She holds her hand up to keep me quiet. “I’m here because you’re being an idiot. You’re drunk, you’re vomiting, and you haven’t been answering any of your calls. I’ve been out everywhere looking for you… some reporter caught you on video running through New York, after dark, like a lunatic. I figured it had something to do with Fury when I saw the agents casing your apartment. And I figured you had gone to Tony, who would run it by Steve, who would eventually send you…”

“Here.” Peter supplied. “It also helped that I called her.”

Sue gives him a withering look.

“I’ve been here since five minutes ago. I thought if I gave you some time to calm down before revealing myself, you’d take it a little better- and we could speak calmly.” She takes a breath. “And I do that to you because I find it funny. Any more questions?”

“I’m not drunk..” I state defensively.

“You always get drunk off of whiskey. You can’t help it,” she says offhandedly. “But I’m not here to talk about that.”

“Then why are you here?”

Sue straightens her back. “I’m here to get my head out of my ass, as Peter so kindly put it, and be a good sister.” She smiles at me, stroking a hand through my short hair. “If this means so much to you, then I’ve got your back all the way. If you say you love him, and you say he loves you- then it’s love. And after seeing how you reacted to that video… I know that I judged too quickly the other morning. You were right- this is the right thing to do. No matter the consequences- be it on us, or on Daken- we have to proceed. Who knows if he was the only person they’ve done this too? ”

“But… you and Reed… and-“ My head is spinning rapidly. This too much to take. Yesterday it was me and Peter against this… now I’ve got my family back on my side. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“We’re all with you. Reed has locked down the Baxter Building, the kids have been sent off with some friends… we’re all safe and accounted for. So no worries there.” Sue says gently. “You’re lucky Peter’s apartment is so small… Ben tried his best to come with me.”

I spare a laugh at that. “What made you change your mind?”

“Johnny you’re risking everything for this. Obviously, it’s not some fleeting whim. You want to do what’s right? Well, we’re heroes- That’s our job. I should have never lost sight of that. There is a great injustice being done, and we can’t blindly turn an eye because some government official is having a power trip.”

“You know this place could be bugged, right?” Peter teases, looking around.

Sue smiles. “If it is, good. Then Fury will know that we’ve got his number.”

“You’re not really good at this whole ‘defiant’ lingo yet, are you sis?”

“She’ll get better,” Peter says encouragingly. “Once you get going, it’s pretty easy to keep going. I mean look at me. I get started and I don’t shut up.”

I laugh staring down into the puke-filled toilet bowl. “Can we start our palace coup in the morning? I’m pretty fucked up tonight.” A thought suddenly hits me. “I’m turning into my father…”

“Oh no, honey.” Sue shushes quickly. “No. You’ve had a week from hell. You’re allowed to have your down moments.”

“Yea well- I’d be making him proud tonight,” I comment dryly.

“Go sleep it off,” Peter says with a yawn. “Sue and I will take care of the video. If this goes like I hope it will, you’ll be in big demand in the next few days.”

Part of me hopes he’s right. But another part of me hopes he’s dead wrong. That no one sees this. That Fury never finds out about this.

Sue kisses my cheek before leaving the bathroom. From the door, she says, “If things go right- or wrong- we’re all looking at some serious consequences. Fines… jail time- hell S.H.I.E.L.D. could just make us all disappear. I want you to know that we’re doing this willingly. Not only because it’s the right thing to do- but because that’s what family’s do.”  
I nod, though I don’t think she sees it.

Sue leans against the door now. “When you’re done, try to avoid falling asleep IN the toilet. On the rim is fine… but if you drown in toilet water the night this goes online- it’s going to be a little hard for anyone to take it seriously.”


	7. Hold You In

Morning rolls by pretty normally. At least early morning does. I wake up in a daze on Peter’s couch wondering how much of last night was real and how much of it was a booze-fueled delusion.

I get my answer when there’s a loud knock at the door. Everyone in the apartment freezes as Peter drags himself off the floor- where he’d opted to sleep to give Sue the bed- and gazes through the peephole.

“It’s my boss,” he says urgently. “Johnny, go and hide in the bedroom. This is a breaking story- I can’t have it’s one of it’s ‘stars’ hung-over on my couch.”

I slip into the room without an argument, closing the door behind me as I enter. Sue rushes over to where I’m standing and puts her ear to the door. Without much prompting, I follow her lead.

“Mr. Jameson,” Peter greets.

“Parker! There's this thing called a cell phone. Have you heard of it?"

"Uh.. yes?"

"Funny. Because you sure as hell aren't answering yours!"

Peter mumbles an excuse about it being dead.

"Next time I call you-you answer," The man berates.

"Yes sir," Peter sounds so small.

The man inhales. I get the feeling that he's a smoker. He just has that look. "You get the best pictures of the super, mutant, mutated- whatever the hell they call themselves- don't you?.” The man says loudly pausing only to get take in more breath so he can continue to be unusually loud.. “I’ve got a job for you… I need Johnny Storm. I need interviews, I need pictures, and I needed them about six hours ago. Got me?” There's a few seconds pause here. “Do this right, and you’ll be able to buy a better place,” he says cattily.

“Yes sir.”

“And another thing… if you could at all, cover Nick Fury’s response. The director of a government organization being called out like this is going to give us that push the Bugle needs!” He sounds so excited. “And the drama! Wolverine had a kid- work that angle. See if we can get proof on that. And add some of that mushy stuff in there… but keep it PG would ya? Two men…” the man makes a noise of disgust. “This is a family-friendly publication after all.”

My hand is on fire before I realize what I’m doing. I almost take down the door, but Sue grabs me. “Don’t,” she whispers. “He’s ignorant. Let him be ignorant. He doesn’t matter. His paper on the other hand…”

“I’ll get right on that sir,” Peter says dismissively. “Now if you don’t mind… I’m sort of in the middle of something…” He must have motioned to the door or something because Jameson laughs a very masculine laugh.

“Say no more. I’ll leave you and your lady to your business.” His voice is retreating when he says, “But I want that story, you hear me? If Storm talks to another source first, your ass is mine.”

The front door closes and Peter’s footsteps fall heavily as he walks back to the room. He opens the door as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “So on top of everything we have to do today- I need to take a few pictures, and do a quick interview with you.” He glances to the side. “Ya know, so I don’t lose my job?”

His hand moves from his nose to his sleep-mussed hair. Pete still looks like a teenager in some aspect. I guess you could say he's 'aging' well. I'm not doing too bad either.. but I think he's got me beat.

I must look spaced off. Peter snaps his fingers near my ears and says, "Hey. Torch. Interview." He spreads his arms around his apartment. "Do I look like I can afford to lose this job?" He smiles.

We all laugh. The kind of laugh that comes when everyone in the room has been holding in tension and it’s suddenly, unexpectedly, removed.

“So… does this mean it went viral?” I ask after the laughter dies down.

“ ‘Did it go viral?’” Peter mocks. “No shit. Not only did it go viral overnight, but it’s trending in like five different countries.”

“Wow…”

“Yea… I’m pretty popular on the web,” Peter grins dorkily.

“If you laugh or make any remark that in any way acknowledges that pun, I will set you on fire.”

“What?? I thought it was… punny.”

“We’re leaving now,” Sue says with an eye roll.

Peter nods. “Just… do so quietly. I really can’t have you two seen walking out of my apartment.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

I’m swamped with reporters everywhere I go. Luckily we didn’t run into any leaving Spidey’s apartment.

Daken and my apartment on the other hand… holy shit. They are fucking everywhere. The landlord blabbed about me buying the apartment the other morning once she realized who I was.

Now they’ve got cameras on me and tape recorders in my face. It’s a nightmare.

“Do you have any comments about the blatant accusations made on Director Fury?” One woman has been jogging alongside me for what has to be at least five minutes asks. I know I shouldn’t be out, let alone by myself, but I need the exercise and the fresh air. Last night made me feel all grungy.

“Lady, I admire your commitment, but I’m not going to give you a comment.” The woman, dressed in a black suit jacket and blue jeans, wearing- Christ. She’s wearing heels. This woman is jogging in high heels trying to get a story. I should give her something. I sigh loudly. “Look… what do you want to know?” I ask quietly, stopping my jog and standing still in the cold morning sun. “Hurry up. I don’t want the others to know that I’m ‘granting’ interviews.”

“I’m honored,” she gushes.

“No, you’re committed. None of the others went as far to keep up with me, let alone in heels.”

“Aware of the female struggle- huh? I can respect that.”

“Well, I do have an older sister,” I state off-handedly before motioning for her to continue talking with my hand.

“What is the status of a court date for this case? Are you suing? On what grounds? How much power does S.H.I.E.L.D. really hold, specifically over the superhero community?”

“Wow… I can’t answer any of those,” I say quickly. “Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t have any answers. Ask something else. Something easy.”

“What’s your relationship with Wolverine’s son?”

“Private.”

“Then does that confirm the rumor circulating around that you’re gay?”

“Nope.”

She looks confused. “So… you’re not? Then you’re bi? Pan? What?”

“Let’s just say that me and…” I almost tell them Daken’s name. But I know he wouldn’t want it in the press any more than it already is.. “Wolverine’s son don’t really match any labels and leave it there.”

“What’s his name? I haven’t got a chance to watch the whole film yet.”

“I can’t tell you. It’s private.”

“Okay.” The woman jots down some notes. “Thank you very much for your time and-“

“No problem, lady,” I cut her off as I see more reporters headed our way. Thinking that now is as good of a time as any, I flame on and take to the sky. It’s been a while since I flew. Or since I felt flames on my skin. It feels nice. Relaxing even.

I make a few lazy circles around the city, not really caring where exactly I go. Eventually, I find myself back at the Baxter Building. I land on the roof, having to give like ten security codes before I granted access to the elevator.

I get off on the floor that houses the living quarters. I’m so overwhelmed with a feeling of… home that I could break down again. I’ve been gone for so long… I mean taking care of Daken had become a full-time job. I didn’t have time to come back.

“There he is,” Ben’s voice rumbles. “Off runnin’ god knows where. Pissing off the government… and doin' it without me. Shame on you.”  
I shake my head a few times. I love Ben like a brother- but I don't have time for him giving me shit today. “I’ve had a rough morning. I’ m going to bed.”

“Sure, sure. Get lots of rest... you’ll be needing it for tonight.”

I stop in my tracks. “Why? What’s going on tonight?”

Ben smirks as much as his face will allow. “President is going to give an address on this situation. Fury might be court marshaled or some shit. No one really knows.”

I don’t know whether I’m anxious or relieved. I walk to my room numbly. It takes all my willpower to do the simplest of things. Take off clothes. Shut door- wait that’s in the wrong order. Thank god the kids aren’t around to see that. Fall into bed. Try not to scream…

Surprisingly sleep comes easy.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

__

_**3rd month (and 1/2)** _

 

I can always tell where he has been now. That’s saying a lot for a man who used to pride himself on making it look like he didn’t exist. Hell, even this apartment is registered and paid for under an alias.

“Daken…” I grouse, tripping over the third unmatched shoe in my path. “Why the hell do you have so many shoes? And why are they all thrown out in the hallway?”

“I’m looking for something,” He says distractedly.

“In the closet?”

“Yes, in the closet. Where else would it be?”

I cautiously step into the room. “Tell me what it is and I’ll help you find it.”

He laughs a little hysterically. “If I tell you what it is, you’ll go and hide it.”

“That’s not-“

He continues laughing. “Like you did with all the kitchen knives…”

“If this is some kind of knife then you are required to turn it over to me,” I state seriously. “We already agreed on this- remember?”

“It’s not a knife.”

“Goo-“

“It’s a sword.”

I resist the urge to strangle him. “A sword, “ I state in clipped words, “Is just a big knife.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter because it’s not here.” He grouses. He’s sitting on the floor in front of the closet, clothes scattered all around him. The only sound in the room is coming from his phone which has somehow ended up halfway across the room as if It was tossed.

“Did you throw your phone?” I ask curiously.

“Maybe,” He says evenly. “I just remember it making noise.”

I can see that this is going to be another tricky day. One that’s hard to navigate. “Hey.” I grab the camera off the nightstand by the bed. “Lemme ask you a question… you haven’t shaved since I’ve started seeing you every day- why hasn’t your hair grown out?”

“Laser removal,” he answers simply, seeming to like the change of topic. “It’s supposed to last a while.”

“You let them do that to your head?” I gawk.

He raises an eyebrow. “Do you know how hard is to keep shaving your head?”

“Point…” I think for a few seconds. “Favorite color?”

He glares at me. “I detest this game.”

“And yet your answers are always changing…” To be honest that’s why I keep doing it. He forgets what he’s told me. Even if it’s only been a day. Daken used to be a master manipulator. He would never let his story slip up. “Come on, humor me. If for nothing else, it will be filler in my footage.”

“I don’t have a favorite color. They’re just colors.” He hasn’t moved from his seat on the floor yet. He seems to be in thought. Or going into one of those really weird mood shifts. Those shifts are what led to me removing all of the kitchen knives. I wasn’t worried that he would hurt me. Quite the opposite. He’s been hurting himself. I made him swear not to use his claws- so he’s gotten creative.

“Favorite song?”

“That one.” He motions over to where his phone is playing. That damned Foo Fighters song again.

“Yea.. you seem to play that one a lot.” I agree.

“I like it,” he says in a very relaxed tone.

“So you’ve said.”

“Also- you hate it.” He smiles at me. “That makes it even more fun to play.”

I sigh heavily. “You just won’t make this easy on me- will you?”

He continues to smile. “Come here.”

“I’m recording.”

“Come here,” he repeats, but his tone is light. Sighing I put the camera down on the table, where I’m pretty sure it is still getting a good picture of him.

“What are you doing now?” I ask warily.

“It’s cooler down here.” Is the only warning he gives me before grabbing a hold of me and pulling me down into a heap of clothing.

“What was that for!?” I demand.

“So I could do this.” He leans over and brushes his lips against mine.

This isn’t the first time he’s done this. He wavers between wanting to be completely alone and craving human contact. The deeper and deeper the procedures go- the more this happens.

“You shouldn’t do that,” I whisper to him.

He smirks- not moving away from me.

I can’t do this with him. I really can’t. It goes against everything Fury warned me about and… Oh, what the hell? Since when have I ever really followed the rules? For once, I kiss him back. And I don’t know why. I feel like he needs me to do it. On top of that, I feel like I WANT to do it. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. He startles a little bit- not used to my forwardness. The doctors had the grace to fill me in on some of the memories they had found. Warning that physical contact might become an issue in his ‘handling’.

“Not so bad, is it?” he teases.

“You know this won’t lead anywhere,” I state sourly. “You know that-“

“I know that I like you. You like me. We’re two consenting adults.”

“For someone so complicated, why do you have to make things so damn simple?”

Daken sinks to the floor without explaining a damn thing. He’s laying there, arm extended lazily above his head, rolled onto his side, with his head resting on said arm. He’s shirtless… like he usually is. If we don’t have anywhere to go- there’s a good chance he’s not dressed. His tattoo coils around the extended arm, over his shoulder and onto a good part of his back. Damn, I could tell you every single curve of that stupid thing. Every line. I could draw it from memory. We’ve spent THAT much time together. “Lay with me.”

It’s not a question. But it’s not a demand either. It’s more like a plea.

“Fine.” I slide my arm around his ever-shrinking waist, letting him press his back against my chest. I may be struggling with my feelings towards him.. but he’s been nothing but clear with me. I don’t mind- really. It’s refreshing to have someone be so painfully forward and honest all of the time. Plus…. This is the only way he’ll sleep anymore.

“You never cease to amaze- do you?” I ask more to myself.

“I am quite amazing, aren’t I?”

“You have no idea.”

He looks over his shoulder at me. “You could tell me.”

“You just… I mean to say, I just- I’ve never felt like this towards… another man.”

“You get used to it,” He says simply. “Everyone is fuckable if you want them to be.”

“Even you?” I ask in a moment of sheer stupidity.

He laughs quietly. “You wouldn’t fuck me.”

That takes me by surprise. “Why do you think that?”

He looks at me with a very serious expression. “Because you’re too much of a girl.” He breaks his seriousness with a smile.

He always does that. Every time something gets serious he calls me a name and then goes on like it never happened.

I’m not surprised at all when he dozes off.

“Daken-“ I whisper once I’m sure he’s asleep. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”

There’s a small sound that comes from him. You could almost call it a laugh. Almost.


	8. Hello

The nation, hell several nations, are all tuned in intently to their TVs, computers, phones, tablets- every possible viewing platform you can imagine. All eyes glued as the president comes to his podium.

And I watch. And I watch. And eventually, have to turn it off.

“Johnny?” Sue questions.

“You heard what he said,” I state lowly. “‘A few lives are needed to benefit the many’.” I laugh with no humor in my voice. “It didn’t work. It made it all the way to the White House- and it didn’t work.” I know if Daken had been completely human it would have worked. No government is going to stop its proceedings for a mutant. It'll never happen.

“Give it time,” Reed says from his seat on the couch. “The people have yet to speak. America is about the people. Let them have a chance to soak in what’s happened and decide what to do with the information that has been presented to them.

“Wait? Now I have to wait?” I’m almost in hysterics again. “I thought this would bring him home. I thought they would see it, end this, and he’d be out of there before those monsters had a chance to do anything else!”

“He’s going to be okay,” Ben says gently. “Kids strong he-“

“But he’s not anymore. That’s what I can’t get you to understand! He was broken when they took him. Shattered, even. Now… now-“ I just lean against one of the walls, my head is swimming, the smooth painted surface is cool to the touch and calms me down just a tad. “The government is doing nothing. We have to take it upon ourselves…”

“Now,” Reed cuts in, “I was hoping you would say that. Usually, I’m against taking rash action, but the odds are not on Daken’s side right now. Statistically speaking, given the rate his mind deteriorated during the six months he was observed and factoring in the amount of undue stress and anxiety a daily torture routine would bring upon him plus the added fact that he’s already been there for about a week,” He stops to take a breath, “the numbers don’t add up well,” He says finally. “Something has to be done quickly.”

“We don’t know where he is,” Sue says quietly.

“But I know someone who could find out,” Reed says slyly.

He’s got that tone in his voice. Something that says he’s been up to things that no one could understand.

“Do you know that Daken’s DNA all but prevents death?”

“Yea… his healing factor is pretty effective in that way,” I say like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well did you know that reconstructing someone with a healing factor is relatively easy? And that once oxygen has been cut off to the brain for so long, said healing factor kicks into overdrive and heals the damage?”

“I’m… not following you, Reed.” Should be my catch phrase when dealing my brother in law.

“Not a problem. This was information I didn’t know myself until last night. See… I received a rather disturbing request from Fury a few weeks back.”

“Oh, yeah? He’s just full of those, isn’t he?”

Ben clears his throat. “Let him talk, kid... I wanna see where this goes."

“Thank you, Ben." He looks at me as if waiting for an interruption before continuing with, "Director Fury wanted me to extract the adamantium from Wolverine’s corpse. It was worth millions. Previous attempts had only been successful in partially removing it. Upon finding out that people were trying to extract this- Fury got his hands on the body to try and take away the adamantium for his own purposes.”

“So you stole shit from a dead man. Big deal?” I grouse.

"Johnny- please." Sue says in a 'warning' tone. "Let him talk."

Reed glares at me. “I had to design a machine powerful enough to melt the metal… without setting the building on fire. It was very intense. Involving a heating process, and magnetization and-“He looks at my face and stops. “That’s not important. What is important is what happened just last night. You see, I broke through the last layer.” Reed smiles like a kid on Christmas morning. “After weeks I was able to finally get to the actual body. And, to my surprise, it was intact. Not a scratch on it. On a whim, I checked his vitals. Nothing happened, so I left to go get some coffee. When I came back to the lab, Logan was sitting up on the table. Confused, but very much alive.” Reed laughs. "It was quite the discovery for both of us."

What? What? This can't... be possible. “Wait.. you’re saying you brought Wolverine back to life??” I’m dumbfounded. I mean.. words can’t really express what’s going through my mind right now.

"You raised the dead," Ben says in an impressed tone. "Waita go there, stretch."

“Well, he has ‘died’ before, hasn’t he? In fact, so has Daken. The two of them never seem to be ‘dead’ for long. Apparently, the long period of lack of oxygen to his brain after he died actually managed to reboot his healing factor. Of course, trapped under the metal… he really couldn’t revive himself. So his body kept healing… and healing until he was freed from the metal encasing him. He’s been deprived of oxygen for a really long time and seems to be perfectly fine. I mean I would absolutely love to run some tests… but Logan being Logan won’t let me, of course. He was ready to leave about ten minutes after he revived himself…” Reed continues to ramble on and on about science and the miracle of the mutant x-gene.

“Reed if this is some sort of joke-“ I growl, cutting his next sentence off.

The man holds his hand up. “All of that was to say this: I encouraged them to let you sleep this afternoon so I could deal with Logan. I couldn’t explain anything to him. I didn’t have the words… but I told him that you had something very important to tell him and that he should wait around to hear it. He’s down in the lab right now- and I think it’s best if you go and talk to him.”

“….”

“Johnny, please, the man’s been through the worst hell you can imagine. He needs to hear this before it gets thrown in his face by someone else. And I think he needs to hear it from you with your relationship with Daken taken into account,” Reed says quickly.

"Ya kid." Ben grins. "Go meet the parent."

The parent who just woke up from the dead.

I know Ben is trying to break the tension, but he's not helping.

"Come on Ben." Sue grabs his arm. "I think they need to talk this out on their own."

The two leave.

I look at my shoes, but I can feel Reed watching me.

“Johnny- I know we've had some, let's say 'difficulties', involving Daken over the past few months. More so over the last week or so than any other time... I was hoping this would help smooth things over with us."

He brought Daken's parent back to life. He plans to use him to rescue Daken.

  
This is. ...

  
"Wow, Reed," I mumble. "Just... thank you. I mean- thanks." I'm thanking him for doing the impossible. "How..'

"How what?" the man asks softly.

"How do I explain this to Logan?" I look up at him finally.

"It's not going to be easy," he admits. "He's in somewhat of a mood already. I suggest you go talk to him. Tell him what happened… be blunt and to the point. I know he will see that your feelings for Daken are sincere.”

“Alright,” I say weakly. I turn and start to go down the hallway.

Go see Logan.

Go see Logan who's in a 'mood'.

Go see Logan who just came back to life.

“The lab is the other way,” Reed states quietly, having not moved from his spot.

I groan. “So it is.”

“You will want to hurry… I have advised against him going online until after you’ve talked to him. But I’m sure the curiosity will soon get the better of him.”

Meeting the parents is never fun. It's nerve-wracking and tiresome. But walking down to the lab, I feel like an inmate on death row. My mouth is dry, my feet are dragging the ground… I wish I looked nicer. It’s a weird thought- but I kind of want to make a good impression. I mean- he’s met me before, sure. But now he knows that I and his son…

Oh shit. I’m about to go meet Logan… fresh from the grave and… and… he’s going to assume that me and Daken have slept together. I’m going to be the bastard who slept with Wolverine’s son while he was suffering from a slew of mental problems and then had to go and face him.

It’s a childish fear. Daken and I are both adults. This shouldn’t be bothering me. Plus there’s the fact that we’ve never slept- slept together. As in had sex. I mean I slept with him a lot… but I couldn’t bear the thought of taking advantage of him like that.

I think of something clever to say for when I enter the room. Anything. I’ve got a pretty good quip lined up, but when I walk through the threshold, it dissolves in my mouth.

“Johnny,” Logan greets gruffly. His clothes are rough. Torn a little. He could probably use a brush or a comb.. but then he's never big on appearances. Unless he's trying to look like a roughed up bad ass... then yea. It's working.

“… H-hey.” My quip. What was my quip? It was good...

“You got something to tell me?” My mouth is dry.

I lean against the door, not wanting to be anywhere near him when he gets the news… hell, I don’t even know what Reed's told him!

I try to say something, but my vocal chords seem to be glued together.

“Look- I’ve had a really rough few months,” Logan says in a stern tone. “Months that you wouldn’t even begin to comprehend. And now apparently something is going on that involves me- and they’re saying you are the man to talk to. So spill. I got a shit ton of calls to make… and I have to get back to the school… and-“

“Daken,” I interrupt quickly. “It’s about Daken.”

Logan groans, putting his head in his hands. "I'm fresh from the grave and you want to talk about Daken? What the fuck Storm."

"It's.. something he's done."

No, wait. No, wait. That makes it sound bad.

For once Daken didn't do a bad thing.

“What’s he done now?” Logan's voice is deadly and quiet.

“He…” I strengthen my resolve just a tad. “He did something good. Real good.”

The man in front of me raises an eyebrow at that. Almost heartbreaking close to the expression Daken used to make. “Really.” He says in disbelief.

“Mutants started to come out compounds that were run by Romulus. They started to talk to politicians and people in power that had been involved with him. Many who owed their success to his scheming.” I pause here to breathe. “Fury needed information about the inner workings of the compound. Of Romulus. Of the dynasty he built- and Daken had it. Only they didn’t trust him to come forth with the information truthfully. So Fury asked me to talk to him about a telepathic procedure that would…” I stop for a second- thinking. “They pulled up sixty years worth of shit… some of it had been blocked by mental barriers that someone else had put up. It took like five telepaths to get through. But they did it. The treatment lasted for six months. It…” Swallowing I continue with, “It ruined him. His mind- it’s gone. I don’t think they can recover it. I hope they can- I mean I really do… but I was with him. I saw the damage first hand. Every day for six months I was there by his side. I took him to the procedures, I videotaped his actions afterward… shit got real bad. Then about a week or so ago, Fury and Dr. Samson show up at Daken’s door. They come in, they sedate him, and then take him off to some facility. The treatments were over, he was wrecked, and they saw him as evidence. They took him away and didn’t tell a single person where. Then they purposefully lost the paperwork so he couldn’t be found.”

Logan nods here and there, quietly taking in what I’m saying.

“They had him declared mentally inept… S.H.I.E.L.D. has legal guardianship over him. They’re keeping him locked up so no one sees what they’ve done. But.. the footage I took- it shows everything. Everything but the actual procedures, that is. And I couldn’t let Fury get away with just putting him somewhere to rot. So I got some help.. and we put the videos online. Fury sent me some videos before we posted it- things they were doing to Daken in the facility.. it was pretty nasty. Now all this shit has happened- I honestly don’t know what they’re doing to him… or where he is- or how much will be left of him-“ I stop because I’m crying. I hadn’t realized it, but I’m actually crying. In front of Wolverine. THE Wolverine. This is a big hit to my ‘man card’.

Logan is silent for a few moments. These moments are the longest I’ve ever faced. The most important. Finally, he clears his throat. “Why you?”

“Huh?” I try to stop crying long enough to talk to him.

“Why did you spend every day with him? Why were you there when they took him away?”

“….”

“Why do you care so much?” he demands.

“I- I… I love him,” I stammer. “Unconditional, head over heels, Nicholas Sparks- all that shit. And… he loves me back. He told me, and I believe him.”

“Now, Johnny, I’m not saying that I don’t believe you. But Daken… he’s never really cared that much about anyone. He’s-“

“He cares about me. He’s been interested since we first met. Sure it was just curiosity at first. He wanted to see how far he could push me. But he got caught up in it. I watched it happen. And then when his mind started to go…”

“You have a copy of those tapes?” Logan says more gently than before.

I snort. “Everyone in the US has a copy of them. Peter and Sue posted it to every social media network they could find."

He nods. “Let me take a look, and then I’ll get back to you on what we should do.”  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The documentary is long. I know that. The footage- even chopped down, is hard to see in one sitting. But apparently, according to Reed, Logan sat there, unmoving from the screen and watched. Not a word came from him.

I left the room. I couldn’t bear to see the footage right now. Or hear my own voice explaining it.

“Johnny?” Sue calls from my doorway. “Logan wants to talk to you. The… the film is over, don’t worry.”

She leads me back down to the lab, where Logan is seated on the examination table, head clutched between his hands so I can’t read his face. When I enter he raises his head and looks me over. Like really looks me over. “You said Fury sent you some videos too…” he growls. “Show them to me.”

“I don’t- I don’t have them on me-“

“I do,” Sue says quickly. “I figured you might ask for them.”

I turn to leave as she passes over the flash drive. “Stay,” he orders. “I have questions, and you are going to answer them.”

“I can’t sit through that again.” I warn. “you don’t know what it did to me.”

“And you think it won’t have any effect on me?” he counters. “You think it’s fun to watch someone you helped create, someone you literally gave life to who bears the pieces of someone you loved, disintegrate in front of your eyes?”

“No…”

“You aren’t the only one who loves him. Not anymore.” Logan says darkly. “You’re going to stay in this room, with me, until this over. And then you are going to answer every single fucking question I have.”

“Yes sir,” I mumble, taking a seat in a chair by the door, as far away from the screen as I can handle.


	9. Down With Me

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. In and out. And in and out.

I thought Fury’s ‘gift’ was bad the first time I watched it. I thought it couldn’t get any worse. I was wrong. Watching it with Logan is heartbreaking.

He doesn’t make much noise other than an occasional grunt, but his whole body posture is changing. He’s fighting to keep himself upright. Having to force himself to stay where he is.

I don’t blame him. I don’t know how I’ll feel after this viewing without the aid of alcohol. Hell, maybe Logan and I can hit a bar. Or a liquor store. Whichever is closest.

“When did he send this?” Logan asks after Fury’s little message blinks out of existence.

“Yesterday…” Has it really only been a day since this happened? Why do I feel like so much time has passed?

“And you posted your video after you watched it?”

“Yea…”

He nods, letting his head fall into his hands again. “Get me a phone.”

“What?”

“A phone!” he snaps. “I need a god damn phone. Coming back to life is hard. I need to speed up the process of letting people know I’m back.”

“We could do a response video,” Reed suggests from behind us. “Sort of like a press conference.”

“Right… just give Fury more reason to hurt him,” Logan snorts.

“Well someone needs to do something,” I snap. “Logan, can’t you go storm S.H.I.E.L.D. or something?”

“Great idea. Why don’t you go ahead and get on that,” he growls.

“I don’t have that kind of power,” I say numbly.

“We don’t know just how well my healing factor is working yet,” Logan says seriously. “Until we do, me charging head first into a spray of bullets won’t get us anywhere.” He turns his head to me. “That phone.. go get it for me.”

I fish out my cell phone from my pocket, not thinking about the screen saver or anything like that. I only remember what it is when I hear him take a sharp breath.

“Shit..” I moan. “I’m sorry… I forgot what the picture was-“

“He looks happy,” Logan comments, staring at the screen. “Happier than I ever thought he could be.”

“It was a good day,” I supply. “We’d been on the beach all day, I got sunburnt as hell..” I stop to laugh. “We thought that was impossible.He enjoyed the shit out of that.”

Logan swallows hard. And starts to pull up the keypad. He dials a number quickly and puts the phone to his ear. He waits a few seconds before saying, “Hey, Ro… don’t scream, okay?”

She screamed anyway. Loudly.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s really easy to forget just how many x-men there actually are until they’re all together.  
Once they’re together, though- it’s hard to forget how loud they are.

I should be happy for Logan. Being rejoined with his friends… but I’m just tired. I want to crawl into bed and sleep for days.

“Mr. Storm.” Hank, aka Beast, drags my attention to his blue-furred form. “I need to ask you some questions… about the video and his condition. I think I can create a successful diagnosis, but I need more information.”

“I…” I look around the room filled with people who are torn between extreme happiness, and sorrow for their friend's predicament. “Can we do this later?” I walk away from him, my head spinning again. The room is so unbelievably loud. I can’t stand another minute of it. “I have to do all of this later,” I say to myself.

“Maybe you should lay down,” Hank says from behind me. “You’re not looking too well…”

That’s an understatement. I have about three seconds to finish that thought before I collapse into a heap on the floor. Three more seconds to panic before blacking out entirely.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

4th month

 

“To the beach?” I groan. He’ll do anything to get out of the house… but the all-knowing doctors say he can’t go by himself anymore. So guess who has to take him?”

“That’s what I said. Come get me.”

“What, now?”

“I’ll even let you take along the camera. No bitching.”

“Daken,” I groan into the phone I’m holding. “It’s five in the morning. Why the hell aren’t you sleeping?”

“I don’t sleep, ” he says offhandedly.

I sit up in my bed. I’m a good fifteen minutes away from him, tucked securely in the Baxter building. “You should.” I spit venomously.

“If I stay in this house... I’m going to go insane.” he pleads. “Please…”

That usually gets me. But this time I’m not falling for it. “No way, man. Go to sleep. I’ll see you in a few hours and then maybe… but at this time of year, it’s already going to be crowded.”

“Don’t be-“

“Such a girl. Yea, yea. I’ve heard it.” I glance at the clock beside my bed. “Give me three more hours. Surely you can entertain yourself for three hours.”

“Fine,” he growls, hanging up on me.

“Fine,” I state sleepily to myself, Rolling back over and drifting off again.

I’m woken up about two hours later by my nephew. He wants me to fix the play station or some shit… which I don’t understand. Franklin is a whiz. The damn thing is broken because he tried to ‘make it better’. Now it sort of opens a portal into some other dimension ever time we put a disc in.

But being the good uncle that I am… I roll out of bed, grabbing my phone as my feet hit the floor.

“What exactly do you need me to do?” I ask while pushing the ‘home’ button on the phone.

“Nothing much. I just need someone to hold this-“

I stop listening. I’ve got a total of twelve missed calls. All from Daken. No voicemails, though. I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad one.

“I’m sorry buddy,” I tell the blonde child. “I have to go.”

I’m rushing out the door without saying a word to anyone I pass. On the way out, I can’t find my keys. I look and I look and I look, before knocking over the small table where they’re supposed to be. “Fuck!” I shout to really no one. I yank the door op and engulf myself in flames. I’ve never flown to his apartment before. I’m not really sure how to get there airborne. So I try to stick as low as possible without being hit by any cars. I will give myself this, though, I make it there in record time.

I find myself pounding on the door, noticing that I never bothered to put a shirt on. Or change into jeans for that matter. I’m standing there in my basketball shorts, shirtless, pounding on his door like an idiot.

“Daken!” I call when he doesn’t answer. “Open the door!”

When this doesn’t get a response, I resort to melting the doorknob and letting myself in. “Dak- Oh my god.” The house is wrecked. It looks like a tornado hit it… if the tornado happened to have a set of extendable claws handy.

“You have to stop!” I hear him in the kitchen, pleading with someone.

I’m walking towards the spacious kitchen before I can stop myself. If he’s in there.. and he’s talking to someone then maybe he’s in danger. Maybe that’s why he called me so many times.

“Who’s in there?” I demand.

He takes a sharp breath but doesn’t answer.

"Please, please." He begs. "You have to stop. I'll give you anything. Anything but that."

“Daken?” I’m walking to the door to find a bigger mess than the one in the front of the house. “Oh fuck,” I swear. He’s sitting on the floor on his knees, head clutched between his hands.

“Just stop!” He’s in tears at this point, slowly rocking himself back and forth. It can’t be comfortable.

“Hey…” I go to him, standing behind him and putting my hands over his. “It’s too loud again, huh?”

He seems to have just noticed me. He startles. “Johnny-“

“You don’t have to explain,” I hush him.

“I can’t take this,” he says more to himself.

“I know, Daken.”

“No.. you don’t. I can’t…” He shakes my hands off of his. “You don’t understand.” Without another word, he extends the claws from his wrists, sending them straight through his ears and into his head.

“Daken!” I’m trying to pull his hands away, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

I’d expected a cry of pain or something to go with this action- and he is crying- but it doesn’t seem to be from pain.

“Okay… It’s okay.” He’s probably busted his eardrums. So I know he can’t hear me. “Shit.. look at all this blood.” He’s stopped rocking and collapsed at my feet on his back.  
What to do first? Take care of his obvious mental breakdown… or get the damn claws to retract? He can’t hear me right now… so I gently start to pull on the right claw. It’s slick… cold… the feeling of bone on my skin makes me suppress the urge to shudder. This is deadly. These things have killed people. Easily. If something goes wrong here- I might not leave this room.

God. I’m going to die half naked and hungry. I don’t want to die with an empty stomach!

The arm slowly starts to move with my pulling. The tip and the top part of the claw are soaked with blood. I don’t know If I need to wipe them off… or if it’s safe for him to just pull them back inside of him.

“Alright… there’s one thing done.” He still doesn’t seem to hear me. So I gently take the palm of my hand and place it at the sharp tip of his claw. I put as much pressure as I can, without breaking my skin. Trying to prompt him to retract. It takes a few tries, but it slowly starts to recede, stopping when it’s a good distance from hand. “All the way,” I say a little loudly. When that doesn’t work, I go back to pushing on it. My hands are shaking as I do this. These claws… they’re wicked. They even look like it- all black and shiny. Finally, my palm meets the skin of his forearm. “Leave it there.”

“I don’t know if you can hear me yet… but I’m going to do the same thing with your other claw… try not to stab me, okay?”

It’s slow work. He really seems adamant that this one is staying in. It takes several minutes of pulling… to the point where I was afraid the damaged skin and started to reknit around the claw. But finally, it’s free. I start to push on it like I had with the other one. This one goes in more smoothly.

His hands are still firmly clutching his head, so I pry them loose. Not knowing what else to do, I take his right hand into my own. Holding it there. “Here… you can squeeze my hand as hard as you need too… until whatever this is passes.”

That he must have heard. Because after a few seconds, I’m regretting my decision. He’s got a vice grip on my hand, Nails digging into my palm, which is already slightly sore from the whole ‘manually retracted the claws’ bit.

Soon his crying has faded, and he’s just laying there. Still squeezing the shit out of my hand… but other than that there’s no movement.  
“Hey..” I pry my hand loose from his and join him on the floor. “Roll over… I’ll hold you for a while.”

It takes a few seconds, but he finally does what I’ve asked him.

I press my chest as close to him as possible. He’s not all here right now. I know that. He needs the contact to pull him back into reality. He allows me to wrap myself around him, holding one hand over where one of the claws had just retreated too.

“You have to talk to Samson,” I say quietly. “This is getting worse.”

He doesn’t respond.

“if you don’t want to, then let me.”

“He doesn’t listen,” Daken whispers. “None of them do.”

“I'll make them listen.”

He just shakes his head.

Not knowing what else to do, I gently kiss the side of his head. “I’ll make this better.”  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The present

 

“I’ll make this better,” I mumble, incoherently.

“Well waking up would be a step in the right direction.” a voice answers. It’s not his voice, I’m not laying in the kitchen, my hands are not soaked with his blood… all in all, I’m confused.

“Have a nice nap?” This voice is vaguely familiar. “Because if you’re done- we’d really like to get this show on the road.”

“Ben..” I groan. “Why is it always you I wake up to?”

“You’re just lucky like that.”

“Yea.. lucky.” I sit up slowly. I’m in the medical wing now. And I don’t have a clue as to why I fainted in the first place.

I look around and notice that my arm is host to an IV now. “What the hell-“

“Food,” Ben says smartly. “It’s food. You haven’t been eating so your blood sugar dropped and now they’re feeding you through a tube.”

“Get Reed in here.” I snap. “Tell him to take this damn thing out and I’ll eat something real.”

“Ya, ya.” The man get’s up from his reinforced seat- which he’d probably dragged in here himself- and walks into the hall. "Ya gotta be more careful matchstick," he says from the door. "Really. Susie... she can't take losing you again." He smirks a little. "Reed and I are kinda fond of you too."

I know I'm worrying them.

"I'll try," I offer.

Ben nods. "Try hard kid. You're in deep shit."

Deep shit.

Taking on Fury is "deep shit".

Ben's heavy footsteps echo into the hallway. A second later Reed and Sue are there.

“I understand that while you're undertaking this noble cause, a lot is on your mind,” Reed starts to lecture. “But… if you would just kindly remember to occasionally rest and feed yourself- I think we’d all appreciate it.”

"You've run yourself ragged," Sue picks up. "You have got to be more careful."

“Go get me something to eat so you can take this damn IV out,” I groan. "I promise to eat and sleep more," I lie.

“I will get you something to eat, but the IV is staying in,” Reed says forcefully. “You need a little jump start, as it were. Especially if you plan on being able to stay up tonight.”

“What?” Information. They're going to give me information.

Sue smiles. “We ran some tests on Logan… his healing factor is working perfectly. He and some of the x-men left a few hours ago to go and confront Fury. We’re not sure what will come out of it, but it’s a start. We figured you would want to stay up and wait for them… “ she pauses. “In case they find him.”

I lay my head back into the comfortable nest of pillows. “Yea… okay. IV stays in, I’ll eat something- anything else?”

“Get some rest," Reed orders. “Like Sue said- You’ve been running yourself ragged.”

As much as I wanted to be the one that busts Fury’s ass for this- I guess it’s more fitting for Logan to lead the charge. I bet Fury’s pissing himself at the sight of Wolverine, who he doesn’t know is alive, mowing down his agents.

The thought puts an actual smile on face… for the first time in days.


	10. Out the Red

Rest actually came relatively easy. I’m thinking that Reed must have slipped some sort of mild sedative into the IV to relax me.

I’m dozing in and out for a long time. Luckily not experiencing any memories or nightmares this time around.

“They’re back,” Sue says from the doorway of the dark room. Her voice sounds strange. Something is wrong. Oh god. Something went wrong. 

I’m ripping out my IV so fast it hurts.

“Hold on,” she says slowly. “Just wait a second.”

“Wait? How can I possibly-“

“He’s not with them,” Sue says, taking a seat on the bed. “Fury gave them the facility where they had him… only after the presidential speech, he had Daken transferred somewhere else. Probably somewhere out of the country.” She fishes around in her pocket. “He gave this to them.” She produces a blood-red flash drive. Maybe that’s just my mind making connections prematurely.

“What’s on it?” I ask fearfully.

Sue shakes her head. “You and I both know what’s on that thing.”

“Where do we go from here?” I ask fretfully.

My sister takes my hand in hers. “We keep going. Keep pushing. They turned that facility inside out. They picked up his scent and got DNA proof he was there-“

“You mean blood. Before they transferred him, they made him bleed and then left it there for them to find.”

“Johnny you don’t know that.” she tries, but she sounds too tired to make it sincere.

“Just give it to me straight,” I plead.

Sue puts a hand to her mouth, covering it. “Yea.. it was blood. Buckets of it. Literal buckets of it. Just laying in an operation room. All the instruments were covered in his blood as well.”

Instruments. 

  
"We gathered up what we could for evidence...." 

“Guess that’s why the flash drive is red.”

She continues -covering her mouth still, “One of the employees was a shapeshifter…” She stops for a second, her mouth pulled into a small frown “And with the help of some of the telepaths they were using… he’s confused, Johnny. He’s really confused. I don’t think you need to see what they’ve done to him this time. It’s vile.”

“Where’s Logan?” I demand. I can’t take her crying. I love her… but I can’t take it. This isn’t her burden. This is mine… and Logan’s I guess. She may feel pity towards him, she may even be upset on my account, but she has no right to be this upset. It sounds selfish but this is my pain. And I want to share it with the only other person it directly effects.

“He’s… debriefing. Upstairs.”

“Send him down here,” I order. 

I shouldn't order her around-  I know that. But I can't help it. 

“I can’t do that Johnny. He’s too wiled up. The two of you in a room together would be disastrous.”

“Why?”

She moves her hand from her mouth and rests her forehead on it, looking down and away from me. “They used your form, Johnny. They used your voice. They manipulated him into willingly doing those painful, painful things. Logan watched the tape… and he doesn’t want to hear from you right now. He knows it wasn’t really you- but after seeing that, he can’t stand to be in the same room as you right now.”

“They… me?” I ask, dumbfounded. “They used me to hurt him?”

Sue shakes her head. “No, not exactly... at least not on camera. He acted all caring and loving… told him everything would be okay, and then restrained him while they worked on him. He was a very good actor. Daken… well, he didn’t even notice the scent difference. He was so desperate that he just accepted you being there. He didn’t even think twice about it.”

I… “I can’t watch that.”

“Good call,” Logan growls from the doorway. “They told me not to come see you. They warned me not to do anything stupid- and I’m not,” he says quickly, holding a hand up to shush Sue. “I watched the footage. I saw how much you mean to him. Obviously, if you were able to get through to him on that level… then you’re not as much of a dumbass as I originally thought you were.”

“Logan…” Sue starts.

“No. I’m going to talk to the boy. I understand shapeshifters, okay? I know how they can fuck with your brain. And believe me, you weren’t the only form they used…”

I shudder at the idea of having everyone you care about or ever had an influence in your life coming back to torture you. A part of me wonders if Romulus himself had put in an appearance at the imposter's will.

“Now I want you to listen, and I want you to listen good- they’re doing this to him around the clock. You understand? Fury went on to explain it. If they keep this up then it won’t matter what the fuck you do to rescue him. He’s not going to want anything to do with you.”

I try to swallow down my rising fear, but it doesn’t work.

“What I need from you is complete and total cooperation,” Logan says seriously. “I have a hunch… I think I caught the shifter’s scent. It’s faint, but it’s fucking everywhere in the facility. I want to go back- and I want to take you with me as back up. If I follow that trail.. then we might find a clue as to where they took him. Then…” Logan smiles a little. “Then we get to do the fun part.”

“Right…” I try to be stronger than I feel.

Logan never enters the room. In fact, now he’s getting ready to leave. A part of me thinks that he still can’t really bring himself to be near me without hurting me at this point. I don’t blame him.

“One last thing…” Logan says with his back to me now, “You can’t give up on him. You’ve made him come a long way… and he’s been through a lot. Things are bound to be more complicated now than they have been in the last few months. Don’t quit. I can’t…” he stops there for a second, lowering his head. “I can’t do this on my own- you got me?”

“I would never…”

Logan shushes me with a hand, turning around in the room. "Do you hear that?"

I shake my head slowly. "I don't think so."

“How locked down is this building?” he asks suddenly.

“Our security is top notch…” Sue starts defensively.

“Get out of the building,” Logan says quickly. “Get everyone out of the building.”

“Logan, what the hell are you-“

HISSSSSS.

The noise steals my attention from him and to the large air vent in the room, which is now spewing semi-transparent smoke into the room.

“Out!” Logan shouts at us. “Now!”

We scramble to get out of the bed and rush out the room. Logan has the wits about him to think to pull the fire alarm in the hallway, alerting everyone to leave.

The alarms are ungodly. Loud and echoing. It’s like a scene from a nightmare.

We’re running as quickly as we can. There are closed rooms that are completely filled with smoke. It starts to filter out from underneath the doors.

“Where is everyone else?” I ask through my panic.

“None of the x-men are here anymore.. there are a few employees on the bottom floor… and I think Ben and Reed are in the hanger.”

“Right.. so everyone is accounted for?”

Suddenly Sue stops running. “The buildings locked down,” She says in shock.

“Awesome observation skills, sis. Want to use them on the outside of the gas-filled building?”

“You don’t get it… unless someone hits the override button in Reed’s main lab- no one is going anywhere.”

Logan puts his head in his hands. “I haven’t been alive for a day and my son is the victim of some government cover-up, and I’m about to die again because Fury has lost his damn mind.”

“No one is dying,” I say forcefully. “I’m going to go hit that switch. If I fly I’ll get there like ten times faster than the two of you could. You two head down to the front entrance. Avoid the living quarters at all costs- that’s where they’d most likely hit first.”

“Right.” Sue nods. “You know the code to the lab- don’t you?”

“It’s “SUE”,” I say with an accompanying eye roll. “Real hard to remember.”

“Be careful,” she says before hugging me.

“Aren’t I always?” I let my powers ignite before taking off down the hall. The main lab is four stories down from the medical bay. I fly through three stories, including stairwells before I start getting light headed.

On the fourth story, my vision is coming in and out. My head is pounding. I can feel muscles start to ache, specifically in my chest. But I reach the lab, clumsily type in the password, and stumble my way to the switch. The lab is mostly gas. If I was in the right state of mind, I might worry if it was flammable or not. But there’s no way in hell I can disengage my powers without passing out. So I pull the switch, slightly melting the plastic on the handle just the tiniest bit.

The windows in the hall become visible, as well as the windows in the lab. “Reed is going to kill me for this,” I say with a lazy smile. Without another thought, I fly as fast as I can towards the large set of windows on the opposite side of the lab. Busting through just a second before I start to pass out again.

I’m going in and out of consciousness, my powers flickering dangerously as I rotate between flying and falling.  
The ground looms closer and closer until…

“Oh no you don’t.” something hard has encased me, holding me immobile as the ground comes closer. “Jarvis… divert 60 % of power to rocket boosters.”

“Tony?” I murmur.

“In the flesh.” Comes his robotic reply. “Well… sorta.”

“What are you-“

“Saving your life,” he snaps. “Now shut up and make it look good, will ya?”

I don’t have much of a say in that. I let the air come rushing past me and try to focus on breathing.

“I gotcha,” he says as we start to slow down. Without a second to lose, either. By the time our downward motion is to a reasonable speed we’re hovering three feet outside the busy road in front of the Baxter Building.

Someone’s called 911. There are ambulances here for the escaped employees and any of us that got a lung full of gas.

“Johnny!” Ben is moving so quickly that I swear the ground is quaking. “Holy fuck.”

“He’s a little out of it…” Tony says, dropping the final few feet slowly and landing with an audible ‘clang’.

“Thanks, tin man.” Ben grunts. “I’ll help him over to the medics.”

I’m placed unsteadily on my feet and then ushered off to an awaiting ambulance. When Ben Grimm says your going in a certain direction- you don’t get a say in the matter.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The employees go home with a few coughing fits and I have some minor injuries- mainly from busting through the window. The main point is that no one got majorly hurt.

Logan offered us a place at the school- saying the defenses were better. Sue, Reed, and Ben took him up on his offer. Me, however, I head back over to the apartment.

Nothing seems out of place. I don’t see any booby traps or lasers trained to my forehead. So I open the door and stand there. Looking around the empty place. “Home sweet home.” I close the door behind me and head upstairs. I collapse in his bed, wishing that he was here to say something about the events today.

My phone starts to vibrate and I almost fall off the bed while wiggling to get it out of my pocket. “Hello?”

“This is stupid, Storm.” my arch nemeses (I actually have one of those now) says seriously. “You’ve got Logan involved now… You managed to somehow bring someone back to life and turn him against me. Now you- you’re harmless. But Logan… Let’s just say my agents and I didn’t enjoy his little visit today.”

“This could all end.” I offer. “Where is he? Logan’s back. Surely you don’t have a right to hold custody anymore.”

Fury chuckles. “See, originally I thought that too. And he’s welcome to try and get full custody… the next available court hearing is in two weeks.”

Two… “We don’t have two weeks and you know that,” I growl.

“Two weeks?” He’s full on laughing now. “Hell, you don’t have two days. Your little friend isn’t doing too well you see. He’s not taking well to the change of environment… Though I thought a little blast from the past would do him some good. I was wrong. If anything it’s making him worse.“

“Don’t you have anything to do other than gloat?” I demand. “I know it was your idea to gas the Baxter Building… you’ve beaten us.”

“For now.” Fury says lowly.

“Then stop calling me,” I say angrily. “You know I’m not stopping. I don’t care if he can’t stand the sight of me when he’s rescued…. I will save him.”

“See…” someone drawls from behind me. It’s a new voice.- One I don’t recognize. “That’s where you and I are going to have a problem.” I turn around and receive yet another shock for today. I drop the phone as quickly as I can... Fury be damned. Things just got a whole hell of a lot more dangerous.

The uniform is dark against the room's well darkness- but the circle on his mask's forehead is unmistakeable. 

“Bullseye,” I growl. “Shouldn’t you be off.. elsewhere?”

Like... Hell's Kitchen, maybe? Not here in Manhattan. 

The man lounges against a wall. “Nope. Fury called me in… under the radar- you see.”

“What do you want?”

The man smiles, pushing himself off the wall. “I want Daken to stay exactly where he is.”

“Why would you want that?” How the fuck is he even involved with this? How did Fury have access to a super villain who so readily was willing to work with him? What's Bullseye's angle? 

“Because,” The man is a few feet from me now, “I like to see him suffer. It makes me happy.”

“How do you even-“

Bullseye grins. “Our time as Avengers may have made me just a tad bit jaded where he’s concerned. More so the part where we all went to jail, and he didn’t.”

Avengers.. Norman Osborn’s Avengers. I know Daken was part of it but… Bullseye? Really? Couldn't they have found anyone better?

“What do you want?” I repeat, letting flames flow over my hands.

“Mainly to get paid.” he drawls. With a motion quicker than my eye can follow, he throws something. It turns out to be a knife of some kind. I get a real good look at it as it pierces my chest. Just an inch above my heart. “Partially to know that if he does get out- which he may if those bleeding hearts have anything to say about it- that he continues to be miserable.” He throws again, two knives this time. And I don’t understand.. he isn’t going for anything vital. The pain is too much for me to even try to fight through. “And finally…” he throws two more knives, each embedding somewhere in my chest- honestly I’ve lost track of them already. He walks over to me until he’s mere inches from my face. “Because I didn’t have anything better to do tonight.”

He laughs after this. A sound that will haunt me for as long as I live. Which, granted at the moment, may not be very long.

“Here.” The man scoops up my discarded phone. “Call someone. I only get paid if you’re still breathing.”


	11. And I Wonder

I can’t really say what’s happened. I called Sue… but I don’t ever remember talking to her. I don’t remember anything.

I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what’s going on… I’m alone. Utterly alone.

Things seem to be revolving so quickly around me, so far out of my control… It’s too much to concentrate on.

Bullseye… I remember that much. He used me as a fucking pin cushion.

Fury called in a supervillain. Who knows what he had offered him to do the job??

I guess Reed or whoever is working on me slipped in more drugs. Because my thoughts- which were already hazy to begin with- slip into something comparable to dense fog. I can still hear myself think... but it's distant.

After struggling with this for a few seconds- minutes, hours; time means nothing to me now- I let true sleep claim me.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_**4th month** _

 

“It’s getting worse,” I whisper into the phone. It’s all pretense. I know he can hear me. “I had to make him go take a shower today. He hasn’t bathed in like… a week.” I sigh loudly. “He’s been in there for an hour and the water hasn’t even been running.”

“Is he still catatonic? Reed wants to know.”

“What?” I think carefully. “I don’t know. He’s moving a little more. He actually spoke to me today… so I don’t think so.”

“You’ve got to try and bring him back,” Sue encourages. “Do something to ground him.”

I look at the bathroom door despairingly. “Yea.. alright.”

I hang up and tinker with the camera some more. Putting it on the shelf where it will get a good shot, but give me mobility with my hands. I knock on the door hesitantly. “You’ve been in there for a while… you okay?”

There’s no response.

“Daken we’ve talked about this,” I try again. “You’ve got to talk to me. At least a little bit.”

“Come in.” His voice sounds very distant.

I have a second to think ‘oh fuck’ before entering the spacious bathroom. Steam is everywhere but not from the shower- which hasn't been turned on. It seems he's punctured some kind of pipe that ran along the side of the wall by the shower. On top of that lovely headache, there’s the strong scent of soap and.. cooper? Damn it that’s blood. He’s bleeding again.

“What did you do?” I demand.

From the shower floor, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and his head resting on them, he points to what used to be a mirror.

“You went through another mirror?” I ask- being sure to keep the heat out of my voice.

He nods his head.

“Bleeding stopped yet?”

Again he nods.

“Okay…” I crouch down and examine all of the broken glass scattered across the floor. “You stay there. I’ll go get the broom.”

I start to get to my feet, when I hear a faint, “Wait.”

He hasn’t raised his head and to be honest at this point there’s no way to be sure that he’s even talking to me.

“Look.” He points again to the thoroughly smashed mirror over the sink, near the shower. “Is he still in there?”

We have to do this routine at least three times a day now. I observe the glass as closely as I can to put his mind at ease. “Nope.”

If we’re being honest, I don’t even know who ‘he’ is. I just know that Daken thinks ‘he’ is following him. He sees him in things- specifically mirrors. And then he smashes said things and…. well let’s just say I have become very good friends with a local glass company.

“He was,” Daken says, his voice wavering. “I swear he was.”

I’m glad I’m wearing shoes as I walk over the glass, hearing it crunch underfoot. “I believe you.” I put my hands on his shoulders. “Have you taken that shower yet?”

He finally raises his head, eyes distant and cloudy, face still wet from crying. “What do you think?”

I smirk a little. “There’s a tub in the other bathroom… I can go run some water for you.”  
He just nods, holding out his hand to me. “Help me up.”

I grunt in response, trying to make sure he’s in all the way in the shower so he doesn’t step on the glass.

He stands there dazed for a few seconds and all I can do is stare. He’s beautiful as always, but there’s something else there. Something I can’t put my finger on.

“What are you looking at?” he demands, though his voice is somewhat weak.

I smile to myself, just happy to hear him talking. “Nothing.”

“You know I can smell when you lie?” he states, staring away from me.

“I’m…” I take a breath. “I’m just thinking, is all.”

“I’m sure it’s…” he stops his quip, and I noticed that I’ve taken a few more steps forward. We’re almost chest to chest now. “Riveting,” he manages weakly.

I reach out and put a hand on his face, almost afraid that he’ll sink away from me. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“You… don’t want to do it,” he says brokenly. “You can-“

I break him off by kissing him softly, not demanding or anything. He can pull away anytime he wants.

To my surprise, he deepens the kiss. He leans back against the shower wall and pulling me into the space with him. I make a cry of surprise. Even as weak as he is, he’s stronger than me. It’s always a nice little reminder of how gentle he actually is with me. That at any moment he could send me to the hospital- but he doesn’t.

“I think I just did.” I smile as we break apart.

“You can’t do this,” he restates, but he doesn’t let go of me. “I won’t let you do this.”

“You want this just as much as I do..”

He lowers his head. “That’s the problem. I can’t have things like this. He always takes them away.”

So we’re going to do this again. Alright. I can handle this. “Where is he now Daken?” I ask quietly, not letting my hand slip from his face.

“He’s… gone.”

“Right. So I’m in no danger. No one is going to hurt me.” He starts to pull away, but I stop him. “I can fight for myself.”

“Not against him.” Daken sounds like he’s pleading with me. “No one can win against him…”

Him… oh shit. Why did it take me so long to figure this out? I’m so slow… I've been playing games with 'him' for weeks. Weeks. And I didn't figure it out. “Romulus is dead,” I state calmly. “Your father took care of him. He’s not coming back.”

“That’s not true..” he starts to sink down to the floor, being held up only by me.

“It is. I swear it is. He can’t take this away from you. Nothing can take this away from you. It’s between us. No one else gets a say in it. Got me?”

He nods weakly. If I let him go, he’ll end up on the floor again. And god only knows how long it will take me to get him up. “Stand up,” I demand in a gentle tone. “Come on, stand up.” He straightens himself and looks at me curiously. “I’ve got an idea… if you want to hear it. You don’t have to say yes… I know how much you like your own space.”

He watches me expectantly. I know his face- every expression possible. I’ve seen rage, I’ve seen sorrow, happiness, guilt, fear- all of them. I know him. Even when he’s like this. And I know that his next move is to wait for me to say something drastic.

“I..” I have to clear my throat. “I thought I could move in here… for a little while. Just until you’re back on your feet.”

His face gives away nothing.

“It’s… well, it’s just getting hard to be away from you. I’m constantly worried about what you’re up to, how you’re feeling, if you’ve left the house on your own-“

“Stop talking,” He demands, kissing me this time.

Like I said, I know him. I even know what he’s too afraid to ask of me. He’s been ‘letting’ me stay over more and more frequently. He used not to allow anyone stay over. Anyone. At a certain time, I had to leave- door closed and locked behind me. He was always very strict about that.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” I whisper when we break apart. I gently toy with a strand of his hair, which is oily. Something I know he hates. “Why haven’t you been showering?”

“No energy.”

I sigh, leaning my forehead against his. “I talked to the doctor… he said they could get you started on some medication-“

“No,” Daken says forcefully. “They won’t do anything.”

“You don’t know that. Give them a try.”

He smiles this time. “Johnny… they won’t WORK.”

“They won’t… oh! Right, right.” I feel stupid.

Damn it. I thought I was making ground with Samson. I was so encouraged by the fact that we were actually talking about making Daken better that I totally forgot about the healing factor. I’ll bet Samson hadn’t though.

“Yea.” He looks past me to the open door. “Someone’s here.”

I don’t hear anyone… and because he has a habit of hearing things no one else can, I let it go. “I don’t hear-“ I’m cut off by someone stomping up the stairs. “Oh shit.” I think back to my list of things to do today. And oh shit. I’ve forgotten something very important…

“Where the fuck have you been?” Samson is standing in the bedroom, arms crossed, face enraged.

“Look-“ I step away from Daken and put myself in between the two.

“I want to hear from him, Storm!” The man spits.

“I’ve been here.” He tries to act like he doesn’t care but his voice comes out with just a hint of panic to it.

“Well do you know where you were supposed to be??” The man demands.

“No,” He answers simply.

“OH, you’d just like for me to believe that, wouldn’t you? You’ve got everyone around you fooled- poor Daken. Look at what’s happening- I’m tired of this shit! You knew what you were signing on for. YOU signed a contract. No one made you. And if you think for one second that you can go back on anything you said-“

Don't get a gamma fucker angry. That's rule number one two and three when dealing with them. And Samson? He's fucking pissed.

“If you’ll stop yelling at him for one fucking minute, I’ll explain!” I shout at the man, tired of him berating Daken when it’s obvious that this day is off to a rocky start already. “I’m in charge of the appointments. I forgot- okay? This is on me- not him. If you’ll give us some time to get ready, I’ll drive him to the hospital, and we can get this over with.”

“You want to tell me that he doesn’t have the capacity to write down his own appointment schedules?” the man sneers.

“Look at the bathroom.” I urge. “He was fighting a fucking mirror, not thirty minutes ago.”

“Interesting.” the man says in a somewhat lower voice. “If you want responsibility, then fine. Here’s the raw fact- he broke contract today. He’s two hours late. If I didn’t come by here and find the two of you, they were going to put a warrant out for him. Got me? Do this again, and I will throw him in jail until the procedures are done. Understood?”

I don’t answer.

“Do we have an understanding?” the man demands louder.

“Yes sir,” I growl.

He looks over my shoulder at to Daken. “You’ve got an hour to be dressed and in that hospital room. And so help me god if you’re just a minute late-“

“We get it!” I shout. “Get the fuck out of here so we can get ready.”

The man stomps back down the stairs, and hopefully out of the house. “I’m so sorry,” I apologize. “I forgot that you had a procedure today.”

“He hates me,” Daken says with a hint of laughter in his voice. “The feeling is mutual.”

I sigh. “Come on… you’re getting cleaned up before we go.”  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_**The present** _

More time slips by. More foggy thoughts. Whatever they’re doing- they’re keeping me under for a really long time. I honestly thought that a few stab wounds would be easy to patch up… Unless… hell. Bullseye could have done a number of things to my body after I passed out.

I don’t remember much. Just pain.

I’m surprised they haven’t tried to make any contact via telepathy. Logan said he wanted to leave soon, upon seeing me like this- surely he would have gotten one of his telepaths to try and reach me so we could leave…

Unless… Unless I never made it back to the Baxter building. Maybe someone else got a hold of me first… Oh shit. Fury. Maybe he had some agents pick me up and-

Another wave of fog sets in over my thoughts and I lose all anger I had been building up.


	12. Out Of Your Head

I haven’t been woken up yet and I’m starting to fear the worst. I’ve been under and out before, but never quite like this. I’ve never been at the point where I’m actually trapped in my own mind- it’s the most frightful situation I’ve ever been in. I hear nothing, see nothing, hell I can’t even feel anything anymore. Whatever they’re doing- whoever they are- I’m powerless against them.

Again I can’t help but feeling that this is a fraction, just the bare minimal amount, of what Daken must be going through. I mean to my knowledge nothing major has been done to me. I mean, besides the stabbing. He has to get holes drilled in his head- daily. Just the thought makes me boil over with anger.

“Mr. Storm?” a voice echoes through my mind.

“Finally,” I grouse back. “It feels like I’ve been trapped here for ages.”

“Two weeks, actually,” the voice, distinctly female, says. “You’ve been in a medically induced coma. I’m here because they’re considering letting you wake up. Now, this solely depends on how well you behave during the duration of this examination. Understood?”

“They who?” I demand as harshly as I can. This is my mind we’re talking in. My own personal territory. Sure they can drug the hell out of it, but I still have control here. I don’t bother addressing her vaguely concealed threats.

“You shouldn’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”

Fury… it had to be him. Reed would never put me in a coma. I mean I annoy the shit out of him and we haven’t been on the best of terms as of late- but we’re family.

“Say it,” I growl.

The voice sighs. “Director Fury had you rescued from your apartment. It appears that the rogue assassin Bullseye-“

“Who Fury hired,” I interrupt.

“No, Bullseye had a grudge all on his own. See he and Daken were-“

“Except Bullseye told me Fury had hired him and I was on the phone with Fury when it happened.”

I can feel a cold wind rushing through my brain now. And I have the realization that purposefully riling up a telepath might not end well for me.

“Fury had nothing to do with this- I assure you.”

“Then why the fuck has he held me under for so long?”

The voice hesitates. “You’ve been very bothersome to him as of late. Making a huge media scandal and all. And you can’t blame the man for holding you a little longer than necessary to get his name out of the press for a few days.”

“What he did was deplorable,” I spit, the words echoing off of every corner of my mind.

“Who's to judge?” the woman says carefully. “You say it’s wrong, he says it’s right- no one is getting anywhere with this.”

If I could roll my eyes, they’d be falling out of my head right now. “Let’s just speed this whole ‘waking up’ business along, okay? Tell me what the hold-up is and get it over with.”

The voice chuckles. And it’s starting to sound very, very familiar. “The hold-up, Johnny, is that we can’t predict what you’ll do when you wake up. And a lot has happened since you’ve been… asleep.”

“Asleep?” I snort. “Yea, that’s what we’ll call it.”

The woman sighs again. “Darling I think its best-“

“Emma Frost,” I say suddenly.

The voice falters. “What?”

“That’s who you are. I recognize that bitchy, condescending voice anywhere.”

I can almost feel her smile. “Well done.”

“This is a mutant problem- you know. They’re doing this against a fellow mutant. Shouldn’t you be on my side?”

Emma makes a noise of disgust. “I will not side with Logan and his little groin spawn. The very thought gives me the undying urge to vomit.”

I know the x-men have split up into two different factions. One led by Logan and one by Cyclops. I’m guessing that since Emma and Scott are attached at the hip, and Emma’s here, then the ‘other’ x-men aren’t on board with this plan.

“Whatever,” I grouse. “Wake me up. This is illegal. I’m medically fine- I shouldn’t be put in a coma just so I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“If you will let me finish-“ The woman says in clipped words, “I will see if we can get around to-“

“You know I know your secret,” I say suddenly. Putting some clues together in my head that I’ve held there for god knows how long.

“Which would be?”

“You were one of the telepaths they used. Ya know- for this groundbreaking procedure? That’s why Fury still has you on payroll. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s blackmailing you into doing his dirty work. Threatening to take you down with him when he goes- and he is going. Believe you me.”

Emma sighs again. “Johnny, if you don’t stop do you know what I’ve been authorized to do? Can you take just the tiniest of guesses as to why they need a telepath of my caliber on hand for this?”

I don’t want to say. This could be a terrible, nasty ordeal. Especially now that I’ve revealed my hand to her.

“They want me to erase any and all memories you have of Daken. Any time you spent together, every passing comment, every single moment of your life for the past six months. It will be like he never existed.”

My head starts to spin again. “You- can’t. That’s not fair! Why would they-“

“Calm down, calm down,” she says quickly. “I’m not going to do it. It would be a terrible misuse of my powers. What I came in here to tell you is this- I’m going to tell them that you’re ready to wake up. And then it’s up to you to escape… if you’re caught- they will have me erase your mind. The process will leave you a babbling, drooling, infant for the rest of your life- do you understand?”

“Why?”

“It’s very complicated, the mind is very sensitive-“

“No, not that. Why are you helping me?”

There’s silence for a moment. “Let’s just say it helps ease my guilt… and leave it there. I may not be fond of Logan or his brat, but…” she sighs. “What we did to him was wrong. And no one should have to suffer through that.”

I’m still confused, but I think that’s the best answer I’m going to get out of her.

“Give me a second to talk to Fury.” She says before leaving me in the quiet.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.” Fury says gruffly. He’s towering up above me, looking a little worse for wear. His skin is grayish and I swear there are more wrinkles on his face then there used to be.

We’re in one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s buildings. I can tell by the uniform grayness of the room. Gray walls, gray tiles, Gray ceiling. It looks like someone dipped everything in a coat of metal. Typical S.H.I.E.L.D. designing.

“Nick,” I greet, opening my eyes for the first time in weeks. My voice is hoarse from not using it. “I hope you know that-“

“Shut up,” he demands. “Shut up, and listen. I’m only saying this once. It’s over.”

“I don’t think so,” I growl.

“No, I mean it’s over,” he growls back. “Sitting downstairs in the lobby are the Avengers, the X-men, the Fantastic Four- hell I’ve got news the President is going to be making an appearance. It’s OVER.”

“For you,” I smile.

He doesn't rise to my bait.“And in a way, I want to congratulate you.”

I sit up in the bed, resisting the urge to strangle him. “Oh really?”

“You are the only person in the history of this organization to stand up this strongly against it. Your bullheadedness should be rewarded…”

My stomach is in knots.

“Where are you going with this Fury?”

He smirks. “No one’s told you? They found your little boy toy. He’s at the Baxter Building as we speak.” My heart sinks and soars at the same time.

“And you’re just going to let me go? You’re not going to wipe my mind or anything like that?”

Fury leans against the gray, metallic wall. “I was going to- don’t get me wrong. But then we got swarmed by capes. And I.. rethought my plan of attack.”

“You don’t surrender,” I growl. “What are you planning?”

“Planning?” he laughs. “Nothing. I’ve done everything I needed to do.” Fury leans close to me, “You thought those little videos were just for you. That I was doing it solely to single you out. And in a way I was- but there was a bigger plan.”

I start to get an inkling of what he’s going to say.. but I can’t voice anything. My mouth is glued shut.

“I knew they were eventually going to find him. I knew that as soon as you released those damn videos. So I had to make sure that if push came to shove, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about what we did to him. Not during the procedures, and definitely not after he was taken into our custody.”

“What did you DO!?” I’m on him in flash, hands around his throat, my mind is complete blur of rage. And Fury, well he’s laughing. Smiling and laughing. I know I can’t kill a man. Not even this man, who has done so much to me. But god I want too. I want too more than I have ever wanted anything. His face is turning red, so I let him go.

He sinks to the polished tiles on the floor, still laughing through uneven breaths. When he can talk, he rasps out, “Go ask him yourself.”

It doesn’t take long for me leave the room, running full speed in a random direction. I’m stripped down to my boxers, which normally would be awkward, but right now I don’t give a fuck. My chest aches. Blood starts to seep through the bandages. It's all secondary.

I follow the sound of recognizable voices until I’m in the very belly of the beast that is the Hellicarrier. Sure enough, there’s most of the superhero community, all staring at me. The chatter dies off instantly. Those with exposed faces are wearing something far too much like pity in the expressions.

“I need a ride,” I stammer as loudly as I can.

No one responds.

I stumble further into their masses. People move to give me space.

I feel breathless.

“Did you hear me? I need a GOD DAMN RIDE!” I yell.

The silence that follows this just puts me in more distress.

“Why won’t any of you answer me!?” I sink to my knees in front of all of them. Not knowing what else to do. “Why did it take you so long to find me? Didn’t anyone stop to think that maybe Fury was behind it and-“

“Storm.” Logan is the first to approach me, seeing him makes me lose the will to keep screaming at innocent people. “You need to come with me.”

I don’t hesitate. I follow Logan out onto the launch pad. The carrier is at sea right now. Not much of a surprise that Fury would keep me off mainland.

We load one of the x-jets and take off without a word.

About twenty minutes in, I get the nerve to break our tense silence. “How bad is it?”

Logan clears his throat. “It’s pretty bad. We have to keep him sedated almost around the clock right now. He’s… he’s too wrecked to handle being conscious. Sedation- It’s the only relief he gets.”

My heart is breaking. Truly breaking. And I haven’t even seen him yet.

“You remember what I told you a few weeks back? Before they gassed the building?”

“No…” I have to remind myself to breathe. And talk. And keep breathing…  
“I told you not to give up on him. Not to let him slip back to where he was before. And I mean that. I can’t get through to him- he won’t even let me in the room. Every time I try he get’s more and more ..distressed.” Logan sounds really upset but doesn’t look at me. “We’re hoping he’ll respond better to you. You have a better relationship with him than I do and...” he drops his voice, "They used me to torture him... we haven't seen them use your form. They may have- don't get me wrong. But it wasn't in the videos."

“They used you to torture him?"

“Yes,” he growls. “Nonstop for about thirty-six hours.”

“How do you know the exact time?” I’m curious now. And I want to focus on anything except what’s waiting for me back at the Baxter Building.

“They recorded it. They recorded every single moment of every single day they had him.”

“Oh…” I put a hand to my forehead. It’s pounding. Like some insane toddler has been let loose in my head and given a pair of drumsticks.

“We’re landing in five,” Logan says dismissively.

I don’t respond. There’s nothing I can say. The person I love, the person I love more than I have ever loved anyone, is in that building. And he can’t even handle being conscious. It’s so bad that they keep him sedated. I wonder a million things at once. Is he violent now? What if he hurts me? What if he hurts me, doesn’t mean too, realizes who I am, and then falls deeper into this state they’ve put him in?

I don’t remember getting out of the jet. Logan suggested I go put some clothes on, and I went to ignore him. Then he went from suggesting to insisting. So twenty minutes after getting off the jet, and getting dressed, I’m standing in the medical wing, in front of a large glass window, looking in on the room.

The room.

The room they use for our more… unstable guests. The windows are unbreakable. The bed comes complete with every kind of restraint you could think of… hell, the room is rigged to expel gas to render it’s occupant unconscious if need be. God, I hope that hasn’t happened to him.

It’s stark white. The tile floors are neatly polished, the bedspread is an off-white- really it’s a nice room. Until you notice the white mesh of metal placed inside the window. It makes a small pattern across the floor, reminding us that this isn’t a happy place. This isn’t a place where happy things will happen. This is a place where we put people when they are not capable of handling themselves on their own.

He’s still asleep. Which is good. Because right now, I don’t know what I would say to him. I’d probably collapse into tears- and he doesn’t need that. He needs one of us to be strong. And since he can’t even handle being awake at the moment… I guess that’s me.

“He’ll be waking up soon,” Logan says lowly, almost in a whisper. “You should be in there.”

I take a deep breath and go to open the door. Unhappily I note that it’s locked. From the outside. He’s once again someone’s prisoner.

“What’s the code?” I ask numbly.

“Same as every other code in this damn building,” Logan answers.

Sighing, I type in my sister's name into the keypad, and listen as the door whirs a little and then finally clicks open.

Daken stirs a little at the sound of the door opening, but other than that remains sleeping.

The wall by his bed houses a small metal box, only protruding slightly from the wall. It’s a speaker and microphone. They can listen to the room and speak into it anytime they like. If he were feeling better, he’d have them remove it. Like he did in the hospital room they used for his procedures.

“Hey,” I greet awkwardly. “How’s it-“ I stop myself. “You don’t want to answer that and honestly I don’t have it in me to hear the answer.”

The closer I get to the bed, the more he starts to stir.

When I’m beside him, his eyes finally flicker open. They rest on me for a second, before clouding over with what can only be described as terror.

He pushes as far away from me as the bed will allow. That’s when I notice the restraints secured tightly around his wrists. Wrists that he’s going to dislocate if he keeps jerking them like he is now.

“Hey,” I get closer, trying to touch him in some sort of way. I know that if I can do something to ground him- he’ll recognize me. I cup my hands under his chin, trying to make him look at me. But he just shakes his head violently, trying to get me to loosen my grip. “Daken- it’s me,” I try weakly.

He starts to say something, but I don’t understand it.

“I don’t speak Japanese,” I say desperately. “You have to talk in English.”

He continues to ramble off a few sentences, rapid fire. Each one getting more and more desperate.

“Johnny,” this is from the metal speaker beside his bed. “Come on out of there. He’s… not responding well.” I look back through the doors to Logan, who’s ushering me to leave his hand.

“Calm down.” I ignore Logan and speak directly to Daken. “You have to calm down!” Tears start to fall from his eyes. I’m doing this to him. He’s… scared. He’s scared of me.  
When I raise my voice, his struggling ceases. Which is something new.

“You’re okay,” I shush. “You’re okay… it’s me. Just me.”

He won’t look at me, still pushed as far away from me as the restraints will allow.

“Just me,” I repeat. “No one else. Just me.”

His litany of Japanese quiets now. His breathing is coming out in harsh pants.

“That’s better.” I offer him smile. “That’s so much better- see? I knew you could do it.”

There’s silence as he finally turns those eyes to me I almost see a hint of recognition, so I run with that.

“I’ve been searching everywhere for you,” I start. “I.. I took on Fury-“

At that, the struggling starts all over again. Just the sound of his name sends him into a panic.

“Hey! Hey!” I try to regain his attention, “What I meant to say was that I took on that.. man. But he made me go away for awhile. That’s why I wasn’t here when they rescued you… I’ve been so worried and-“

I can’t continue. “You’re not listening,” I say brokenly. “I can’t possibly expect you to understand what’s been going on… not after everything you’ve been through.” I lean forward, having to strain to reach him, and kiss his head. “I love you,” I state quietly. “I’ll be back to see you very soon.”

“Wait,” he says quietly, voice a little harsh.

“What is it?” I ask hopefully.

He turns his head towards a mirror on the side of the wall.

“A…” I shake my head. “Of course.” I could just take it down. I could do a number of things. Instead, I take my fist and smash it as hard as I can against the glass surface. The resulting crash is quite satisfying. “I’ll get someone to clean that up,” I state over my shoulder.

As I leave the room, I feel like I’ve been weighed down by at least two tons. Logan, however, is smiling.

“What are you smiling about?” I ask brokenly.

He points to Daken through the window. “He hasn’t spoken a word- Japanese or English- to anyone since he got here. And it’s been like three days.”

“So?”

“So- he spoke to you. Sure it was jumbled and most of it was him begging you not to hurt him-“

“That’s what he was saying?”

Logan spares me a sad smile, “But the point is, he talked to you.”

Great… just great. I’m the only person he’ll talk to... and even then he was just trying to save himself from pain. Wonderful.


	13. When I Sing

“Got you some lunch!” My sister says cheerfully as she enters the kitchen. “Something nice and greasy. Just like you like.”

Eat? How can I eat? I’ve been going over things with Logan for the last four hours. Eating is the last thing on my mind.

“Thanks.” I try and smile for her. They all want to be cheerful. We won, after all. This should be a happy time. Fury is out of the picture- they went to suggest that he step down as Director, but he disappeared. Like he usually does. Steve thinks they can flush him out. I don’t know what they plan to do to him- and frankly, I don’t care. I just want him gone and out of our lives.

Our lives. Even thinking it makes my heart flutter. Logan has custody of Daken, of course. I wouldn’t suggest anything else. But he came out and told me that he wants me included in all major decisions. He gets final veto – but I have some measure of weight to throw around. I helped him be rescued. Not physically, but I started this whole thing in motion. And I paid for it. Most of my wounds are in the process of healing. A good two weeks in a coma will do that to you. There’s one, right above my heart, that’s been a little tricky. Reed keeps fussing with it. Saying something about infection.

I’m kind of glad that there’s something physical to match the emotional pain. And right there- at my heart- right where it’s hurting me the most.

I hadn’t noticed yesterday, but I’d run out in front of all my colleagues (if you could call them that) bandaged all to hell and in my underwear- that part I did notice, I just didn’t care. Apparently, it made a strong statement amongst the other heroes. They seem to keep ‘dropping’ by on their way to go do other things. Wanting to know how everything is going. How I’m holding up. How Logan’s holding up. A few the brave one’s even go as far as to question about Daken’s health.

We can’t tell them much. Mostly because we don’t know a lot ourselves. They’re throwing around some major psychological disorders. I mean some of the real heavy hitters. But they can’t be sure until they run some tests. And to run tests, you need a willing patient. And so far this patient isn’t even willing to let them into the room. We had to put out a memo to the doctors- because several have signed on with Reed in this case- not to wear white coats or anything resembling any medical or surgical gear. It’s gotten hard to tell who's who when they’re not really dressed professionally. They started out dressing in business casual. But that wasn’t good enough. He could still tell what they were. So they’ve downgraded to very, very casual. Hell, there’s one who showed up in basketball shorts and a college football hoodie today.

“You should eat,” Sue says in a way that suggests that I’m not going to leave this room without doing so.

“I’m not really that hungry.” I push the bag of… god. She went to McDonald's. Sue hates McDonald's. She won’t even let the kids eat it. It goes against most of what she believes in nutritionally.

She just stares at me.

“Fine!” I snap opening the bag and pulling out a cheeseburger. The paper crinkles annoyingly loud as I open it, taking a bite while staring at her, making a big show out of it. It’s not like the food is bad. In fact, at this point, it doesn’t have a taste at all. I swallow and repeat the actions until she seems satisfied.

After the food is gone, she smiles brightly. “See? Don’t you feel better now?”

“Ya.” I grouse. “Sooo much better.”

“Maybe you’ll feel better if you take this down to the med wing.” She motions to a tray that’s been sitting on the counter for a few minutes. Reed brought it in and forgot about it. He’s been real busy lately.

“He won’t eat,” I say depressively.

Sue frowns. “Look, we need someone to try. He needs to eat something, even it’s only a little bit. If not, we’re going to have to insert a feeding tube. It will mean that someone literally has to hold him down while we force a very long tube down his throat and into his stomach. The process is disgusting and painful. And we both know that he’s not going to be in any state for that.”

“Alright.” I pick up the tray hesitantly. It’s just plain items. Soup, well broth, and some toast… but I know this is pointless. I’ve spent months trying to feed him. I know that this won’t work. I had him eating maybe once every two days. And those were on good days. Some weeks, even I couldn’t force anything into him.

“Thanks, Johnny.” She chirps. She’s happy because the tower isn’t on lockdown anymore. The kids are on their way back to the tower. I know she’s been worried about them. And they’re smart kids. I’m sure they’ve pieced together what’s gone on.

I walk numbly down to the medical wing again. I’m not surprised to find Logan hovering outside the window of the room. He doesn’t leave. Always perched there. Always watching. I doubt if he even sleeps anymore.

“Hey.”

He grunts in greeting.

“They wanted me to bring him some lunch… how’s he been this morning?”

Logan shrugs. “Morning are always bad for some reason. He’s worse when he first wakes up. Add that on to all the shit those doctors were trying to get him do and…” He kneads his brow with his hand. “I wish they’d just leave him alone. I know it’s necessary… but I’m getting sick and tired of seeing him like this and them making it worse.”

“I know what you mean.” I feel guilty. I’m one of the ‘them’ that keeps bothering him.

“Since they left, he hasn’t really said or done anything. Just lays there.” He shakes his head.

“Hard to ‘do’ anything when they’ve got you strapped to the bed,” I mumble.

Logan laughs a little, but it’s a dry laugh. “If he weren’t strapped down, he’d be in the corner. We tried to keep him out of the restraints. But he didn’t sleep. They couldn’t get any fluids in him- it was a mess. The restraints just make it easier for Reed and the other egg heads to work on him.”

“Any chance we can get through this without a thirty-minute screaming session?” I ask darkly.

Logan leans back further against the wall. “Not on your life.”

“Open the door for me, will ya?”

Logan types in the code and moves out of the way as the door opens.

“Good morning.” I put on my happy act easily. He doesn’t need to know what’s going on with me. He needs a constant, stable attitude. And I’ll do just that. Up until the point where my jaw hurts from smiling.

He looks at me warily as I approach.

“I brought you some food.”

Daken just continues to stare at me.

Let’s see just how interesting this encounter is going to be…  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**2nd month**

“I’m not eating that.” His voice is soft as he says this. He’s napping in his room, balcony door open, fan on lights off.

“You don’t know what it is.” I groan.

“I can smell it from here.” He doesn’t bother rolling over but I can almost hear his smug smile.

“Oh really?” I know it’s a stupid question, there’s no doubt that he can smell it. But.. it seems to pop out of my mouth before I can stop it.

“Tomato soup, saltine crackers, and a glass of water with a ground up sleeping pill in it.” He recites. “Nice try.”

“At least eat some of the food.”

Now he turns over. “Why bother?”

“Because it’s food. You need it just as much as I do.” I straighten my back. “And because I just spent twenty minutes preparing it.”

“Most of that time went into crushing up the pill.” He grouses.

“Arggh. Daken, please. Eat this. For me?”

He stares at me forlornly. “Fine.”

“Grea-“

“If you’ll feed me.” He interrupts.

I groan again, exasperated. “I’m not feeding you Daken.”

“Then I’m not eating.”

“Why does this have to be so damn difficult? Just eat the food.”

He smirks. “Then feed it to me.”

“You’re just doing this because you know that I won’t feed you, and you’ll get out of eating.”

He rolls back over. “Exactly.”

“Well, you’re not going to win…” I state determinedly. “Turn over.”

He does as he’s told, raising an eyebrow as he does so.

“Consider your challenge accepted,” I growl at him, taking a seat on the bed, placing the tray beside me. “Now if I feed you, no spitting it out, or throwing it up. It stays in your body at all times.” I have to negotiate all possible angles before dealing with him. Just to cover my bases.

“Agreed.”  
He watches me expectantly, hoping I’ll back out.

“And I’m only feeding you the soup.” I grouse.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**The present**

“It’s uh… some soup and some toast. They thought it would be easy to start off with.”

I’m almost near the bed now, his eyes are locked on mine, and that hint of terror is resurfacing quickly.

“You only have to eat a little bit…” I try to bargain.

I go to pass him the tray when I remember the damn restraints. “Uh.. hold on.” I go to the metal box and push the ‘call’ button. “Can I take the restraints off?”

Logan answers back after a slight hesitation, “I don’t think so.”

“Then how is he supposed to eat?” I look to the window to see Logan Shrugging.

“I guess you feed him.”

Because that’s always gone over so well.

Placing the tray on the table beside the bed, I start to struggle with the side railing on the bed. He winces every time my hand comes near him. I almost give up the will to continue.

“Keep going Johnny,” Logan says from the box. “I know it’s difficult… but someone’s got to do it and he won’t let me into the room.”

“Alright,” I state more to myself. “I’m going to sit on the bed,” I warn him before taking said seat. “Now…” I pull the tray into my lap. “I need your cooperation.” It’s a little heartening that he hasn’t started struggling or screaming yet. I feel like we’re making progress. “Right… now just hold real still,” I fill the spoon up with liquid and go to take it to his mouth. He chooses that moment to flinch away from me, sending it all over himself. “No, you’re supposed to hold still.” I chide. “I’m not going to hurt you- in fact, I’m saving you from something that’s very unpleasant. So if you’d just work with me -we’ll get through this a quickly as we can.”

I go to try again only this time when I reach his mouth, he starts to struggle in earnest. His jerking shakes the small bed enough to tip the tray over. “Daken…” I can’t even try to be mad at him.

He mumbles something in Japanese again.

I stand up and go back to the box, “What’s he saying?”

Logan’s sigh is audible. “He won’t eat poison. He’s saying that he won’t eat poison.”

I turn back to Daken. “It’s not poisoned.” I try. But it’s pointless. He’s wearing the food now, why bother trying to reason with him?

He continues to spew sentence after desperate sentence.

“He spilled it everywhere,” I say back to the box. “Do they have procedures for cleaning him up or can I do it myself?”

Logan scratches his head. “I don’t know Johnny… I mean, they go through a hell of a lot of procedures to just about anything. I can’t really remember which one is for what.”

I move over to Daken again and start to pull the blankets off of him. That seems to freak him out more. “Hey!” I try to gain some semblance of control, but he isn’t having it. “Daken please… you don’t have to be scared of me. You know me. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

His thrashing gets so bad that the tray and its contents which were previously on his lap, end up on the floor.

“Calm down.” I try again. “You’re dirty. You need to be cleaned up- let me help you.” When that doesn’t work, I try- “If you don’t let me help you, you’re going to have to sit here, and lay in it. IS that what you want?”

This produces a result, but not the result I’d been hoping for. His thrashing quiets, but he’s started to cry again. Body trembling. Very audible. It's not like his old crying spells. He's terrified. What the fuck have they done to him!?

“Logan.” I’m back at the box again. “Are you hearing what’s going on in here?”

“Ya…” he responds. “Should I go get Reed?”

“We don’t have time for you to go get Reed!” I snap. “Come in here and help me.”

He’s silent for a second. “I can’t.”

“You have too, Logan. Listen to him! He needs help!”

“You don’t think I hear him?” he snaps back. “You just don’t know how he responds to me. Him hating me was hard, but I could deal with it. This? I’m not capable of handling.”

Daken is back to trying to remove himself from me. Pulling so hard that something in wrist cracks. Even that doesn’t stop him. His full determination and focus are going into getting as far away from me as possible.

“He just broke his wrist,” I growl at Logan. “Get in here and help me!”

Finally, the door opens. Daken stills. A new look of terror filtering over his face.

“Son,” Logan begins.

Daken starts to struggle in earnest now. When it gets him nowhere, he lets out the most pathetic, desperate, sort of cry you could imagine.

“See?” he directs at me. “He does this every time I come into the room.”

I take in Logan’s demeanor. He looks like someone’s just told him the worst news imaginable. That sadness seems to radiate off of him.

“Well, you have to calm him down when he does this.” I try to reason. “Just like I did yesterday. I had like three minutes of calm… and he didn’t start fussing right away when I came in today…”

“You want me- me- to calm him down,” Logan states in disbelief.

“Come here.” I motion him over.

He doesn’t move until there’s another sickening crack from the bed. “He’s hurting himself…” he mutters. “We need to tell Reed to find a new method of restraints.”

“What I’m more curious about is the fact that he hasn’t used his claws.”

“Ya… the recordings explain that,” Logan says in a defeated manner. “Like Fury said- he was the least violent patient they had.”

I go back to stripping the bed, trying to ignore the flinching and the pleading- I guess it’s pleading, again I really can’t understand it- and I stop halfway through. “Why’s he so scared of me removing the blankets?” I say suddenly.

“Same reason why he’s worse in the mornings,” Logan says from behind me. “Probably thinks we’re getting ready to start that ‘routine’ they had him on.”

I have to laugh at that. “That’s stupid. A blanket has nothing to do with torture.”

Logan sighs. “He slept in the operation room a good part of a week. They would finish up with him and then leave him there. I guess when they stripped the bed he was on, it meant they were getting ready to start… I don’t know Johnny. I can’t explain any of this! If you want answers, ask him. He talks to you.” The last is said with a little bit of jealousy.

“This ends now,” I growl. I finish removing the blanket, they’ve somehow managed to dress him in a pair of sweats, which Reed keeps down here for ‘patients’. “Take this.” I pass the wet blanket over to Logan. Then I direct my full attention on Daken, “No one is going to torture you.” I say calmly. “No one is going to hurt you in any way, shape, or form. And if they do- which they won’t- I will personally see to it that it doesn’t happen again.”

He says nothing, which is an improvement from when he was kind of semi screaming a few minutes ago. “Logan, come here,” I demand.

The man moves hesitantly but eventually joins me beside the bed.

“Your father is not going to hurt you. What happened over the past few weeks was the product of a Shapeshifter and some nasty telepaths. Okay? I know it’s hard to believe but-“

Daken’s eyes flick between the two of us, panic filled and looking much like what you would see if you cornered an animal. It kills me.

He’s trembling again. There is no way in hell I can go through with this. I sigh and excuse myself to go into the bathroom, which is small and basically suicide proof- which means no sharp edges or items high on the wall that would be good for hanging one's self. I came in here looking for a washcloth or something, but inevitably end up staring at myself in the mirror.

“What are you doing?” I ask the Johnny standing opposite of me.

“Johnny…” Logan calls.

“Just a minute!”

“We don’t have a minute.” Logan shoots back. “Get your ass out here now!”

I grudgingly come back to the bedside to another unpleasant surprise.

“I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing- but it’s scaring the hell out of me.”

Sigh heavily, I gently take hold of Daken’s hand. He’s tossing and turning and groaning- I know exactly what he’s doing. “He’s having a psychotic break,” I state to Logan. “We used too- Let’s just say that this- this I can handle. We probably just stressed him out too much.”

Those gray eyes are closed now, he seems to be really intent on not looking at us.  
“Hey,” I soothe. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m…” An idea crosses my mind. “Logan.. don’t laugh okay?” I wince as the hand in mind twists violently trying to get me to let go.

“What part of this would you think that I would find funny?” He growls.

“I’m about to do something really personal and… just don’t laugh- okay?”

Logan glares at me. “If you try and get naked I will -“

“I’m not getting naked!”

He backs up from the bed, giving Daken and I some room.

I clear my throat a few times before starting to sing, somewhat shakily, the first few lines of that stupid song he loves so much.

The further I go, the more the struggling stops. By the time I reach the chorus, he’s attention is solely on me. Not whatever he’s seeing at the moment, not whatever he’s hearing, not even on his father- whom he’s deathly afraid of now. Just me. It’s like all those months ago- just me and him.

“And I wonder… when I sing along with you. If anything could ever be this real forever. If anything could I ever be this good again… the only thing I’ll ever ask of you- you gotta promise not to stop when I say when…” I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough. But he looks at me expectantly.

“I’m not singing the whole thing,” I say, my voice cracking a little. “Maybe… later.”

Those eyes are clearer than they’ve been in days. His lips move, but I can’t really hear what’s he’s saying. When I get closer, I wish I hadn’t. It’s soft but stinging. “Where have you been?”

It cuts me deep. The first thing he actually says- when he finally knows who I am for real when he gets past the panic and the lies- and he’s asking where I’ve been. I wasn’t there for him. I let this happen. I-

“He’s been right here,” Logan says softly. “We’ve all been right here, waiting.”

Daken’s eyes close at this. And he doesn’t reopen them. He’s drifted off to a more peaceful state of confusion. And hell, at least it’s better than screaming.


	14. I've Waited

Sleeping isn’t a relief anymore. I’m plagued by his words. “Where have you been?” Like he’s been waiting for me all along. Like he was expecting me at any minute, just to come in a make it stop. Because that’s what I’ve been doing all these months. It went beyond helping him- it was saving him. Saving him from himself, his mind, the doctors on some occasions. He was waiting for me. All that torture- all that pain. And he never stopped waiting.

Unwillingly I find myself pacing the floor in the bedroom. This is my home. This has been my home for years… yet somehow right now it feels like a cage. The way people keep staring at me- like I’m an insect under a microscope. I’m interesting now-Something to be pitied. I can’t stand pity.

Unable to take pacing anymore, I find myself walking back down to the med wing.

Again, I’m not surprised to find Logan there. I am surprised, however, by my sister’s presence. It’s hard to notice at first, but I can hear her. “It’s really too late for you to be awake.” Her voice says. “And if you are awake, you should call someone. If it’s too early to sedate you again, we’ll at least sit with you for a while.”

“Where-“

“It’s the monitor,” Logan says knowingly. “She’s in the room.”

“By herself?” I gasp, starting to enter the code into the door automatically. I don’t think Daken would hurt her on purpose- that’s not the case at all. But I don’t want my sister to be on the receiving end of one of his more confused states.

“She’s okay, kid,” Logan says gently, catching my wrist and pushing it back to my side. “Listen.” He cocks his head to the monitor on the wall in the hallway.

From the box, I hear her voice. I hear the infliction and the sweet, kind compassionate words, but I can’t believe that she’s saying them to Daken.

“You shouldn’t fight the sedatives so hard.” She continues chiding. “Reed is going crazy trying to find the perfect dosage for you… and we’re all so saddened at the thought of you waking up in this room in the middle of the night on your own.”

He doesn’t respond. I didn’t think he would. But he isn’t crying or screaming either. I walk up to the window and peer through. Sue’s sitting on the side on the bed, where Daken is unrestrained and leaning forward while she… oh my god. She’s washing him. He actually let her touch him.

“He’s… never really had a mother figure.” Logan explains. “he was a bit rocky when she started, but something’s changed.”

“My son, Franklin, used to wake up every night at the same time.” She prattles on. “2 a.m., screaming his head off. I could never understand it. I guess that’s why I wasn’t surprised to hear you when I was making the rounds down here. Something happens when you’re hurting and it’s dark. IT makes it worse. Ya know?” Sue stops for a second. “of course you know. You’ve been doing this for four nights now.”

She slowly drags the wash cloth down his back. Being nothing but efficient and thorough.

“But back to the sedatives… I know you’ve noticed that we’re not using them as much as we did when you first came here. In part I think that’s for Johnny’s benefit. He wants to talk to you. He wants to make sure you’re okay and everything… and we’re kind of hoping that he’ll be able to help you. In the same time, I think it’s helping him in a way. He really did miss you, you know. He ran himself ragged trying to find you.”

Then something unexpected happens. “Johnny…” He says quietly. “he was there.”

Sue clucks her tongue. “No, dear. That was a shape shifter. We’ve been over this several times. Neither Johnny- who Fury placed in a coma for a good two weeks before your rescue- or your father- who was literally dead up until two weeks ago- had anything to do with your imprisonment.”

He groans a little, grabbing his head. She takes the cloth and presses it to his forehead. “I’m sorry we don’t have any medicine strong enough to make the ‘noise’ stop.” She says knowingly. “I’m sure that hearing all of them in your head isn’t helping you get the rest you need.” With that, she places the wash cloth in the bin on the side table and gently nudges his back to the mattress. “I’m going to strap you in again.” She warns. “Just so Reed doesn’t freak out when he comes to check on you in the morning.”

She stands to her feet. “If you need anything, you’ve got your father and Johnny waiting in the hallway.” She smirks to the window as she says this. “I’m sure they’d absolutely love to help you in any way they can.” She then turns her attention back to Daken. “Good night, Daken. I sincerely hope that tomorrow is better than today was.”

When she exits the room, she’s smiling. “You know,” She says looking between the two of us, “he won’t go to sleep until he’s sedated again. That could take hours of waiting. Someone really should be in there with him…”

“He likes to be alone,” Logan says gruffly.

Sue sighs. “Logan no one LIKES to be alone. Especially not at night when they’re hurting. He really could use some comfort and perhaps you could use this as an opportunity to mend old wounds… he’s more receptive now. Besides all he’s gone through, the procedures he underwent tore down several mental barriers. Things akin to brainwashing, almost. He knows the full extent of what Romulus did to him… I’m sure he’d be more than willing to hear what you have to say.”

“Alright.” Logan pulls himself off the wall. “But I’m just going to upset him.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Sue gently takes Logan’s hand and pulls him into the room.

“Storm, you stay right there,” Logan growls. “If things go south- which we both know they will- you’re my back up.”

“That’s okay.” I grouse. “I didn’t feel much like sleeping tonight anyway.”  
He doesn’t respond. Just closes the door behind him.

I’m eager to hear how this interaction will go. Daken’s had more lucid moments today than he has since we rescued him. He’s been somewhat responsive with the doctors, doing. No one’s gotten him to eat yet… so tomorrow morning they’re inserting the tube. I’m not thrilled about it. But Logan gave them go ahead. He can only go so long without eating. And given his ‘I won’t eat poison’ comment earlier, I’m pretty sure the Fury and company weren’t doing what they should to ensure proper nutrition.

Logan stands there for a few seconds in silence. Sue pats his shoulder and exits, looking at me gently. "He'll want to see you too, Johnny," she says. "If he stays down here for an extended period of time, we could possibly get some chairs or something for you and Logan to sit in.... If you'd like." 

"We'll see," I mumble. 

She nods. "I'll see you in the morning." 

"Night sis." 

She leaves, leaving me to stare in the window and Logan's awkward display. 

“Hey.” Logan’s voice finally comes through the monitor. “Don’t scream.” He says quickly. “Don’t scream.” He repeats.

Daken makes a noise that’s hard to describe. As if he was going to say something and then was too frightened to follow through with it.

“Listen…” Logan drawls. “I’ve seen the footage. I know what they did to you- I know what you think I did to you. And I want you to know that it was vile, and inhumane. I would never even think of hurting you like that. I’m your father. I love you. I loved you before you were even born. And I know that you can smell that I’m not lying. I have never lied to you. Not once since I’ve known you. And I’m not going to start now.” He takes in a breath. “The doctors around here are nice, but you and I both know they’re lying. Everything is not okay. It may NEVER be okay. What Romulus did was awful and Fury did may have been even worse… but you can’t let yourself slip any further. You’ve got to start fighting back. Just in some little way. You know? Eat something. Do something to convince them that you don’t need to be restrained anymore.”

Logan pauses here. “Son? Are you hearing me? Give me a sign- something to prove that you’re still there somewhere.”

Daken says nothing. He doesn’t even try to move away from his father.

“Look… I think someone should tell you the truth. You can’t stay here in the Baxter Building forever. You could feasibly stay with me, but then I wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on you twenty four seven… the doctors, they’re trying to get me to put you in another long term care facility.” He follows this quickly by another, “Don’t scream. It’s okay. I’m telling them ‘no’. I just thought that you should know how serious things are- if you don’t already. No one can even imagine what’s going on your mind Daken. The things you’ve been through are more than some people go through in their entire life. And those memories, however painful they are- are yours. You can share them to the best of your ability but you can’t flat out-“

“Akihiro.” Daken says quietly, cutting Logan off.

“Uh- what?”

“It’s my name.”  
Logan looks to me as if for advice. I motion frantically for him to keep up the conversation. “It’s… nice.” Logan says after some fumbling. “It suits you.”

“I don’t use it,” Daken says in the same monotone voice. It’s not cold, but it’s not warm either. There’s no strength behind it. He’s just stating facts.

“You should,” Logan says quickly.

“I wanted you to know.”

Logan swallows audibly. “I’m honored, son.”

“He didn’t.”

“Who didn’t?”

Daken turns his head away from Logan. “The other you.”

“The shapeshifter.” Logan concludes. “he didn’t know your real name, and now you’re telling me so you differentiate between the two of us.”

Daken nods, when he turns his face back to Logan I can see that it’s going vacant. He’s slipping again. One moment of lucidness and then he’ll be gone.

“Wait- wait,” Logan says quickly. “I know this is too easy to give into. I know that you want to drift back into your little… cocoon you have inside your head.”

“No.” Daken’s voice is wavering. “You don’t.”

“I told you- I’ve seen the footage. I saw you doing it then just as plainly as I’m seeing you do it now.” With a pleading tone, he adds, “And I want you to try to fight that instinct. Just give me… I don’t know, five more minutes. Can you do that?”

“No.” Daken’s voice is so pained here. He really doesn’t want to deal with the situation at hand. He wants to give up. And I feel for him, more so than I thought I could feel for anyone. He can’t die. He knows that. And god knows he’s tried over the last six months. The only escape he can find is by totally withdrawing. No speaking, no moving, no eating- nothing. We would spend days like this. Literal days of him laying there not saying a word to me. But he would always come out of it. Towards the end though- these days would turn into weeks. He was starting to wither. And there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Just like there’s nothing Logan can do about it now.

“Then… let me tell you something real quick.” Logan bargains. “That man, outside the room, has been looking for you. He went through hell to find you. He took on S.H.I.E.L.D. pretty much single-handedly at first. Everyone told him to stop. They said it was going to get him killed. But he kept going. You don’t find people like that often, Akihiro. You really don’t. So… what I’m trying to say is- listen to what he has to say. Give him something in return for all he’s done for you.”

Daken must do something I can’t see, because Logan’s voice is softer when he says, “This pain, this hurt you feel, all this damage- you can’t face it alone. And sure, I’ll be here for you every step of the way, but you need to know that he’s there too. It couldn’t hurt to let the people who love you help you.”

“I love him,” Daken says, it sounds like he’s tearful again.

“I know you do.”

“I warned him.”

Logan nods. “We always do. But the good ones are always stupid enough to stick around.”

“Where has he been?” Definitely tearful now. That, or I’m hearing my own tears.

“Fury did everything he could to take Johnny out. He really did. He threatened him, gassed his home, threatened your life and eventually hired an assassin to take him out… five throwing knives through the chest couldn’t even stop him. So Fury had him put in a coma. We had to split our efforts between finding you and finding him. Then… three days after we found you, we got a tip-off that Fury had him…. And-“

“Where is he?”

“Outside… you want me to bring him in?”

I see Daken give the tinniest nod. But I wait for Logan to come to the door. I don’t want him to know that I heard all of that. It was personal. I felt like a scum bag for listening.

“Get your act together,” Logan says harshly when the door opens.

I sniff a little loudly. “Right, right.”

“You got it?” He questions knowingly. “You’re not allowed to break down- understand? You can when you’re on your own, but not in front of him. He needs to know that the people in charge of protecting him are a strong and unwavering force. That’s the only way we’re going to make him feel safe. And when he feels safe- maybe, just maybe, we can start to heal some of this damage.”

I dry my eyes. “Alright… ya. I got it now.”

Logan ushers me into the room. Feeling very much like breaking down again, I walk over to the bed. “Hey, Daken.” I offer as strongly as I can manage.

He looks at me with somewhat cloudy eyes. “You took on Fury.” He states, not so much in monotone anymore.

“Yup.”

“Who did he send?”

“Huh?” I think back to Logan and his conversation. “Oh! You mean the assassin? It was Bullseye.”

“Lester?”

I shrug. “I don’t know his real name so I couldn’t tell you. But ya.. he said he had a bit of a grudge against you.”

Daken closes his eyes and smirks. But it’s not the smirk he’s famous for. This is pale and pain filled. there’s no hint of joy or satisfaction there. He’s just doing it because he knows I expect it.

“Why?” He finally questions. “Why didn’t you stop?”

I sigh, remembering what Logan said about breaking down. It takes a few seconds to build up a good voice. “Remember what I told you… about two months ago?”

His eyes open and he stares at me intently.

“I told you that no matter what happened, no one could take this away from you. From us. Not Romulus, not the doctors, and definitely not Fury. I meant it. I was going to keep going until you were found or I was dead. Those were my only options.”

He goes to say something but I hold a hand up- “It’s my turn to ask some questions, okay?”

He suddenly looks fearful but nods anyway.

“Good. Why don’t you use your claws? I saw the first set of footage they sent us- you didn’t even try. Why?”

“Romulus.” He says simply.

“What about him?”

There’s a very long silence. For a second I’m worried that he’s stopped talking again. I mean I should be impressed- this is the longest conversation anyone’s held with him since he got here. But… I don’t want it to end. I want to hear his voice. It’s not enough to have him physically there. I stand outside the room and I feel like he’s still lost to me. “He told me not too.” Daken says finally

I shake my head. So those bastards HAD used his form. How could they pull up something so scarring? I mean Daken was a child when he met Romulus. A child! That man was his personal bogeyman for fifty odd years! And they just pulled him out of Daken’s mind and threw him in his face.

“It wasn’t him,” I explain. “He was-“

“I know.” Daken sighs. “I know.”

“Why don’t you use the claws now?”

Daken looks away from me.

“No, no. I answered your questions- you have to answer mine.” I put a hand under his chin and turn his face back towards me. “Why?”

“I’m scared.” He admits, voice sounding small and ashamed.

“You don’t have to be…” I comfort.

He stares at me forlornly.

“Alright… I guess if I was in your position I’d be pretty freaked out too.” I yawn, looking around the dark room curiously. He lets the silence I’ve cerated sit.

Logan clears his throat. “It’s about three now. Should we call up Reed and see if it’s time for his next dose?”

“No need.” The intercom buzzes. “I’m already here. Sue kind of insisted.”

Logan shares an uneasy glance with me.

Reed continues with, “I was going to let you continue your conversation.. but it seems to have ended.”

“Johnny?” Daken asks quietly. I know that Reed and the others must make him nervous. I’ve seen how he acts around them. I would give anything to trade places with him. Anything at all. If I could shoulder this constant fear- no panic is a better word- and he could be the one outside of the room… god, I’d pay all the money I had.

“Ya?”

“Stay with me.” He pleads.

I smile. And it’s a real smile this time. “Of course.”

“Not just now.” He continues.

“I know what you meant.” I take his hand in mine. “I’ll stay with you now, tomorrow, a year from now, ten years from now… every day I possibly can.”

He closes his eyes as the door opens behind us.

“I’m sure you know the drill by now,” Reed says around a yawn. “A little prick and you’ll be sleeping in a matter of minutes. No pain. No fuss… just hold still for me this time- okay?”

To Reed- he doesn’t respond. I think a full conversation with Daken is a privilege that only Logan and I get to share in. And even then it’s not a full conversation. It’s chopped up sentences. Mainly in the form of questions. He’s completely incapable of having control now. So he needs as much information as he can get to try and feel safe. I can respect that.

Reed preps a syringe as we all sit in slightly more comfortable silence.

“If it helps at all…” Reed begins what is sure to be a long, winded ramble, “We’re going to switch to doing this just at night. I think it will be more effective if we don’t overuse it. Which of course means that you’re going to have to find a way to cope with your day that doesn’t revolve around being sedated…. I would like to strongly suggest that you see some sort of psychiatric professional, one that we will of course, put through several screenings to make sure is best suited for your case. Given that you actually want someone to work with you on your case. I think that maybe after a few years you could make a case as to getting some minor aspects of control back in your life. Of course it will take much work and preparation. I may even be able to come up with some sort of super pill for you... it's not been done before without adverse side effects. But if we used something similar to lithium and made it stronger...I'm not sure how side effects would work for you, however. And lithium on it's own is a nasty drug. That's only if you wish to undergo medication. If you don't, I refer you to my earlier statement of you seeing a professional. Of course it will be nothing like your time with Dr. Samson. I mean that we will find you someone who cares and is invested in your recovery. To combat your self destructive ways if nothing else. However, that will require your full cooperation and willingness to let a complete stranger into your most personal business. Which, knowing you may be too much to ask of you. However, therapy is quite effective with the minor afflictions you suffer from... and if you would just continue to speak with us like you’ve been doing tonight, I’m sure we could make a lot of head way and-“

“Reed.” Logan interrupts. “He passed out like two minutes ago.”

Reed looks down at Daken. “So he did.” He leans over and gently pulls the blankets up Daken’s exposed arms and chest. “I tend to ramble when it comes to him.” He states thoughtfully. “I’m so uncomfortable around all of this… I’ve really never seen a case like his before. I can’t even begin to think of the psychology of it. It’s mind boggling. The fact that a damaged mind can be placed under psychic barriers to make it appear functional but then upon the removal of those barrier return to it’s original state and-“

“Richards, if you continue, I’ll be passing out too.” Logan growls.

“Of course,” Reed says softly. “You’re probably tired. You’ve been down here every day for days. I think it’s time you came and rested…. Johnny is staying in here tonight. Daken won’t be alone.”

Logan glances over at me and then back at Reed. “You’re right.” He groans.

Reed smiles. “Good. Good night Johnny.” He says politely before going to leave the room. “Oh.. and mind what you say in the morning.” He warns. “Daken is a little more… active in the mornings. He may not remember that he’s the one that asked you to stay in the first place. For your safety, I suggest you sleep in the chair.”

The chair huh? This little flimsy thing? I don’t think so. “Sure thing.” I lie.

Logan smirks as he follows Reed out. He knows I’m lying. I don’t care, though.

As soon as the door closes, I crawl up into the bed beside Daken. He doesn’t weigh much anymore. His form is smaller than I’ve ever seen it. The large, plush bed, easily holds the both of us. The only tricky part is lying without hurting his restrained wrists. Of course, he’s been rendered unconscious and can’t say if I’m hurting him or not- but I’d rather him not wake up in more pain than he has too.

I arrange the covers so that they’re covering the both of us before leaning over and gently kissing him.

This time around, sleep comes surprisingly easy.


	15. Forever

4th month

 

Light filters in through the open balcony door. Sunlight touching the once darkened corners. He’s sleeping in again.

I’ve been awake for about an hour. But he sleeps so rarely now that I’m afraid to disturb him by moving. People don’t take into account the whole ‘heightened senses’ thing. If I move, my scent shifts, he’ll hear the sheets crinkling… it’s just this whole fiasco that runs through my head.

Sitting up on my ‘side’ of his bed, I content myself with watching him for a bit. Feeling utterly creepy and smitten at the same time. It’s no secret that he’s attractive. He knows it, I know it, hell everyone we pass on the street knows it. But there’s something about him sleeping. When he’s not trying he looks his best.

I wonder how many people have got to see him like this. He’s so secretive. Anything personal is just that- personal. I doubt he’s ever spent the full night with someone before. Sure it may be different because this is his house- his territory as it were. But the fact remains- I’m allowed in. I’m allowed to see him like this. I’m standing where few- if any- have stood and I’m still breathing.

“You know that your scent shifts whenever your mood does?” he asks sleepily. “It’s pheromones.”

I chuckle a little. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“What are you thinking about that’s so damned important?” He’s turned away from me, but I can sense that smile that’s become more and more rare.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” He looks over his shoulder at me questioningly.

I smirk. “Good thing you aren’t a telepath.”

“Lucky me.” He snorts.

That’s not true at all. If anything, Daken has the worst luck imaginable. But I don’t say this. Instead I ask, “You want to go get something to eat?”

“No.” He answers flatly.

“Want to move into the living room and watch some TV?” I try again.

“No.”

“Want to lie here in bed while I clean up the apartment?” I ask a little annoyed. It’s not his fault that he’s got no energy.

He smiles. “Yes and no. Stay with me.”

“Daken- I can’t spend all day in bed. Again.”

“Why not?”

Because I’m not… ‘messed up’. Let’s call it that. IT sounds nicer than what the doctors are saying.

“Because I have things to do today.” I state.

He rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

“Argh… alright. I’ll stay for a little while. But then I’m going to get up and start cleaning, and you’re going to get up and take a shower. Got it?”

Daken is quiet for a second before resting his head on my lap.

“He’s coming over- isn’t he?” He asks quietly.

Sighing, I nod. “He wants to do a house call… to see how you’re doing in between treatments.”

“Shitty.” Daken growls. “Same as I am every other time I have to see that jack ass.”

“Samson just wants some aspect of control.” I offer. “Things are…”

Daken raises his head. “Things are what? What were you going to say?”

I swallow hard and curse myself for not being more careful. “Difficult.” I say neutrally. “Things are getting difficult.”

“And that means that he has a right to come in here and what- judge me? Make assumptions when he has no fucking clue what’s going on!?”

I exhale slowly. “Look, I know it’s frustrating. But things are starting to get worse- fast.” I wait for his response and when it doesn’t come I add, “I want to make sure that this man is doing everything within his power to make sure they don’t get worse.”

“You talked to him.” He accuses.

I nod. “After last night-“

“I don’t even remember last night.” Daken growls.

“That’s just it! You don’t remember! It took me five hours to get you up here. Another three to clean up the mess- and you don’t remember any of it. That’s how out if it you were.”

“I didn’t ask for this.” He retorts even as he lays his head back on my lap.

I take a moment to run my hand over his hair. “Ya, I know.” Then to myself I repeat, “I know.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Present

“Johnny…” I don’t want to wake up. Nothing on this earth could wake me up. Especially not my nephew and niece try- My nephew and niece? What the fuck are they doing in here? Who’s watching them?

I jolt awake quickly, noticing that Franklin and Val are very much in the room and very much unsupervised.

“What are you doing?” I hiss, extracting myself from the bed slowly.

“We wanted to see what mom and dad were doing down here.” Val states defensively. She looks like a miniature Sue. She’s got that bossy ‘take no shit’ attitude as well.

“You can’t be in here.” I try. “It’s dangerous.”

Franklin crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re in here and you don’t seem to be in danger.”

“That’s… different.”

Val walks to the foot of the bed and starts to flip through the medical charts. “Phew.” She says after a few seconds. “He’s really bad off… ‘possible schizo affective disorder, borderline personality traits, PTSD, dissociative identity…” She looks to me. “I didn’t know those could all coexist…”

“Get out of there.” I try to remove the chart from her, but she moves out of my reach.

“Everyone upstairs is talking about him.” Franklin says, going to his sister’s side. “No one knows how to fix him. I thought we could help.”

I have to fight the urge to smile at that. They’re good kids. Too smart for their own good- but good none the less. “You can’t fix him anymore than the doctors upstairs can.” I try to reason.

“But he won’t be as resentful to us.” Franklin says sternly. “We’re not doctors.”

I have to resist the urge to yank my hair out. “Right. And you can’t play doctor with someone. Especially not someone as..”

“Messed up?” Val supplies.

I stutter for a second. “Does your dad know you’re down here?”

That puts a look of fear into their eyes.

“I didn’t think so. So… go on and leave and I’ll be upstairs in a little bit.”

“He’s not dangerous.” Val says after some thought. “well he is, but not to us.”

I storm over to them and yank the chart from Val’s hands. “You can’t have blind faith in people. It doesn’t work that way.”

“No, I mean that while you were asleep, Dad injected him with more sedatives. While he can probably hear us right now, he can’t do anything about it.”

“Why-“ I’m so tired. So unbelievably tired. Fighting with the munchkins was not on my list of things to do today.

“Dad says Daken’s your boyfriend.” Franklin says offhandedly. “Does that make him our uncle?”

My eyes must grow three sizes. I feel like they’re about to pop out of my head. “No. It doesn’t. It makes him someone very important to me, and I would appreciate it if you would respect his privacy.” When they continue to stare I add, “And my privacy.”

“Homosexuality is seen a lot in nature. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Val smiles at me.

My hands do eventually make it to my hair, but I manage not to pull any out. “I’m not ashamed of anything. I’m worried that you two are down here. I love him and I love you. I want to make sure neither parties gets hurt.”

“We’ve already told you that he’s sedated. So we’re in no danger. And how could he possibly be in any danger from us?”

“Val, Franklin, I need you two to listen to me. Not because I’m your uncle, but because I’m an adult. You two do not need to come down here. Not when I’m in here, not when your parents are in here- not ever. Got it?”

“What’s he see?” Franklin asks randomly, ignoring my warning.

“What?”

“When he hallucinates.” Val clarifies. “The charts don’t say.”

I shake my head a few times to clear it. “That’s none of your business.”

“Well whatever it is, it must be pretty bad for them to be calling in the old Phoenix.”

Time ticks by slowly. “The old- what did you say?”

“Rachel Grey.” My niece says like that explains everything. “She was the Phoenix once, wasn’t she?”

“Why are they calling her in?” I ask more to myself.

“Because Professor Xavier is dead, probably.” Franklin answers.

“How did you find that out?” I demand.

Val rolls her eyes. “It’s on the chart, Johnny.” She reaches up and takes the chart from me, flipping to the very last page. “See? ‘No further treatments to be administered until Ms. Grey is consulted.’”

“Out.” I demand coldly.

“But-“

“Out!”

I start towards the door, looking back to make sure they’re following.

A telepath? They’re calling in a telepath!? That’s what got us into this mess in the first place!

I storm through the halls until I find Reed sitting at the kitchen table. He’s reading a paper, arm stretched halfway across the kitchen as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

“Do you know where the munchkins were?” I demand.

Reed looks up from his paper like a deer caught in the headlights. “Not in the med wing. I told them specifically not to go down there.”

“Sorry dad.” The two chime.

“You could have been hurt.” Reed snaps his arm back into a more human shape and stands up from the table. “You could have-“

“We saw you give him more sedatives.” Val says quickly. “We wouldn’t have gone in there if he was awake.”

“This is a very sensitive case.” Reed begins to lecture. “Everyone involved demands a high level of privacy and-“

“Can you really have more than two psychological disorders?” Franklin asks curiously. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

Reed cocks his head to the side. “You read his charts??”

“They were on the bed.” The young boy says innocently. “I thought that meant anyone could read them.”

“Forget that- the kids are safe, they won’t do it again- why the fuck are you calling in a telepath??”

“Johnny.” Reed hisses. “Watch the language in front of the kids.”

“You’re right.” I turn to the two in question, “I need to talk to your dad. And it’s not going to be pretty. Why don’t you go see what Ben is up to?”

“Alright…” Val says dismissively. “Though with patients who experience hallucinations, the best course is to start anti psychotics as soon as humanly possible.”

Reed stares after his children, looking dumb founded. “Johnny..” he starts turning back to me, “I told them not to go down there.”

“When do they ever do what you tell them too?” I sigh after saying this. “I’m not mad about that. I’m glad they’re okay. But I do want to know what this telepath thing is all about.”

Reed pinches the bridge of his nose. “We need someone to get through to him on a deeper level- someone who can tell us if he’s going to become violent. You know Daken’s track record. He’s no innocent. While I really think that all we’ve done for him would make him think twice and-“

“You’re worried he’s going to freak out.” I summarize. “But then your pulling in a telepath, who is most certainly going to set him off. You see the problem with your logic here?”

“Ms. Grey was not involved in the previous case in any way.” Reed says sternly. “She’s a friend of Logan’s. He trusts her- we’ve even run this by him. We were going to tell you, but you just now woke up and…”

“Bullshit.” I growl. “You weren’t going to tell me. You were going to keep him sedated and then tell me when she got here and it was too late for me to do anything about it.”

“Johnny… we’ve given you a chance. And yes, it’s working. But it’s not working fast enough. Last night was a break trough, really. You should be proud. But there are things we need to know…”

“And what’s so pressing that you’re ready to fuck him over for? Huh?”

Reed starts to pace the kitchen. “I don’t know. Why he won’t eat for example. We originally thought it had something to do with Fury but then we re-examined the notes from the procedures and it turns out that he stopped months ago. Fury had nothing to do with it.”

“So he doesn’t eat- is your curiosity really worth losing him over?”

Reed purses his lips for a second. “It’s not just that. We want to know why only certain people can get him to respond. Like Sue, for example. She’s able to handle him without the slightest reluctance on his part. Or why he wakes up and exactly the same time, every morning. Whether he’s sedated or not.” He takes a breath, “why he goes into these states he’s so prone to. What he sees while he’s there. Things that will make treating him easier. IF we can learn his triggers and then isolate them, there’s a higher success rate. It’s statistically sound, Johnny.”

I get in my brother in laws face, nose to nose. “These aren’t statistics for me, Reed.” I hiss. “These aren’t numbers. These aren’t questions in need of solving. He is not one of your experiments to poke and prod.”

“I didn’t-“

“Shut up.” I growl. “You do this and I risk losing him. Do you understand that? Every single ‘experiment’ or ‘test’ you run puts someone I love in danger.”

“Johnny,” He sighs “you’re being unreasonable.”

“I’ve been reasonable. I’ve been very reasonable if you ask me.” I back away from him. “And you would be reacting the same way if it were Sue in that room. You know that. Don’t look at me like I’m being unreasonable.”

Reed shakes his head. “I’m sorry Johnny, but she’s already here. We can’t just send her away.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “You can’t be in the room, but you can wait outside.” His eyes fill up with something close to pity. “I promise, this will be nothing like the procedures. He won’t feel a thing.”

I’m helpless… again. First he was a prisoner for the procedures, then for Fury, and now for Reed. I haven’t helped save him. I’ve put him a fancier cage.

“Are you alright?”

I shake my head a few times. “You should sit down.” Reed advises. “Maybe eat something yourself…” he leaves the room without another word.

IS it possible that I’m still fighting for him? Even after the ‘good guys’ won? Is there any way I can possibly save him from this or is just some sick cycle that he’s going to be stuck in for the rest of his life?

For the rest of his life… shit. That could be centuries. Because of my insistence I’ve possibly doomed him to centuries of being without control. That always meant so much to him. He never let anyone in. He controlled every aspect of every relationship. Every facet of his life imaginable- and now it’s all gone.

And anyway you cut it- it’s my fault.


	16. And now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehh.. ya a little bloody here. Just a quick heads up. 
> 
> Merry belated christmas to those who celebrate it. To those who don't merry religious holiday of your choosing or, merry thursday. :)

5th month

 

Shopping. I hate shopping. I barely do it for myself- let alone someone else. Unfortunately part of the job description evolved into me being Daken’s personal shopper. Not for any reason other than the fact that if I didn’t-it wouldn’t get done.

At first I tried going to the fancier shops. Trying to get things that he would actually wear- only he didn’t wear them. Most days he doesn’t even bother getting dressed. I mean it’s so bad that before we were even a couple I was well accustomed to seeing him naked.

I balance the bag of groceries in one hand, mostly things I wanted to eat, and a plastic bag of clothing in the other as I fiddle with the key in the lock. Ringing the bell is completely useless. He won’t move- even if he knows it’s me.

I struggle uselessly for a few minutes before I hear a noise form overhead. And god. Oh god. I wish I didn’t look up to identify it.

The bags fall out of my hands instantly as I take a few steps back from the door and look up at the balcony. More specifically the railing of the balcony.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask a little breathlessly.

Daken sits perched on the railing not acknowledging me. His chest is smeared in crimson, splashes of it dot his face and hair. With his head turned slightly, I can see that the longer strands are hanging wetly from the rest.

Jesus.

“Daken!”

His name seems to shock him back into reality. “Hey.” He responds.

“What are you doing?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Get down.” I order.

He starts to edge his foot over the railing.

“Safely!” I yell catching on to what he’s doing instantly. “Get down safely.”

“It can’t hurt me.”

“I don’t care.” I growl. “Get off the railing, turn around, and go back inside.” I gather up the bags quickly and force the door open. I’ll just tack ‘fixing the door’ onto my never ending to do list.

I deposit the bags on the black leather couch in the living room, right next to the pile of dirty clothes of mine that I haven’t had the time to wash yet.

I climb up the stairs briskly, but quietly enough to hear him holding yet another conversation with himself. Well… not himself. I know who he’s talking to. Anyone who knows anything about this case would know who he was talking to.

Constantly pleading, begging, and trying to appease the dead man who made him. The man whose voice has been ‘borrowed’ by Daken’s mind to torment him with. I don’t know how to explain it. I know that somewhere in his mind he knows Romulus is dead. But his brain is crafty in the tactics it’s chosen to use against him. Constantly playing with him. Pretty much just like Romulus did.

“You can’t.” He says breathlessly.

Oh yea. Here’s the really fun and dangerous part of this situation- Romulus doesn’t like me. In fact he wants me dead. Daken is constantly trying to save me from this. ‘Saving me’ involves locking me out of the house. Or locking himself somewhere and doing something vile and self destructive. Honestly- I’m not scared that Daken is going to hurt me. Even with this going on, he’s been nothing but honest about it. He wants me safe. He’s even tried to push me away. But I see through that. I know what’s really going on.

“You can’t.” He repeats.

I nudge the door open gently. “Fuck it’s cold in here.” I murmur. He’s sitting on the floor next to the open balcony door looking extremely distressed.

Of course he doesn’t respond.

“I bet you gave the neighbors quite a show.” I comment looking him over. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. God I know he’s cold.

“What’s all over your chest?” I continue to question when he doesn’t answer. “And in your hair… Daken what the hell is this?”

“You have to go.” He says harshly.

“I know.” I try to soothe, hiding my panic at the fact that the mystery substance is most likely blood. And a lot of it. “He wants me dead. But he can’t hurt me- remember? He doesn’t exist. You’re in full control.”

Daken shakes his head violently.

I sigh. “I’ve got the groceries downstairs. Come down with me to the kitchen.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I didn’t ask if you were hungry.” Feeling like I can press my luck a little I finally ask, “What’s the blood from?”

“Leave.” He tries weakly.

“No.” I reply flatly, feeling my face draw into a sterner expression.

Daken glances up at me, seeming to battle several intense emotions at once. “You don’t understand. No one… no one understands.”

“I understand that this is very real to you.” I begin the usual dialogue. “I also understand that you appear to be coated in blood… a lot of blood. And you’ve yet to answer my question.“

“You don’t know what he’s capable of.” Daken pleads. “What I’m-“

“You’re not going to hurt me.” I interrupt. “We both know that. If I didn’t feel safe, I wouldn’t be here.”

Daken seems to shrink. His shoulders slump forward as his arms fall listlessly by his side. “I could make you go.” He warns.

“But you won’t.” I walk over to him, put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Come down stairs. We’ll find away to drown this out- just like all the other times.”

Daken lowers his head, not saying anything. I let him sit there for a few minutes before trying a, “Sue’s coming over later. She said she wanted to help out with some of the housework. I thought I’d cook her something for her effort… why don’t you come sit with me?”

“He’s going to kill you. He’s going to make me do it.”

I sigh. We’re still on this. This must be one of the more extreme episodes. “What have you done today?” I ask knowingly. “Where did the blood come from? Where’s the rest of it?”

Daken looks startled. “I did nothing.”

“Bullshit you did ‘nothing’. What’s happened?”

Daken’s face is a constant battle of emotions. I can feel his confusion starting to effect me. Damn pheromones. He can’t control them anymore. Anytime he tries to use them, it just ends up amplifying what he’s feeling. He no longer owns the ability to manipulate people through them.

“Is there more blood?” I ask after a few moments of his silence.

“Yes.”

Good. We’re getting somewhere. “Is it yours?”

“Yes.” He won’t look me in the eye. His eyes run a panicked circuit around the room.

“Which room?”

He swallows hard. “Yours.”

I remove my hand from him and walk out of the room and down the short hallway to where I’ve been sleeping when he doesn’t require me to sleep with him. The door sticks as I push it open. After a good harsh push, the wood groans and pulls free of whatever was holding it shut.

The smell is awful. It’s the first thing that registers. The rest comes to me slowly. Red. Wet. Sticky. The furniture is wrecked along with the mirror (no surprise there) and…

“Where did you get it?” I ask softly.

There’s silence from the other room.

“Daken, I know you can hear me.” I sigh.

He’s behind me now. I can feel him before I see him. That hailstorm of emotion that he’s exuding takes my breath away. “It’s the neighbors.” He says quietly.

“You took it out of their shed?” I ask as if this was a normal, everyday, conversation.

“Yes.”

I nudge the very bloody chainsaw at my feet. Why hadn’t anyone called the cops? Surely someone heard the noise. With all this blood- I know he must have screamed at least once. “What did you try to do?”

That he doesn’t answer. I’m almost afraid that he’s walked away- but relax when I feel him rest his forehead against my shoulder.

“You can’t do this Daken.” I say as I reach a hand back and stroke his hair. “I told you to stay in the house.”

“I had to.”

I let my anger flare in my head before willing myself to calm down. “You had to steal the neighbors chainsaw and …” I look around the room. “I don’t even know what you did in here. It’s going to take hours to clean up all this blood!”

“I was trying to help.” He offers weakly.

“We’ve been over this- you’re dying will not be helpful. Especially not by your own hand. And definitely not by means of chainsaw.” I try to add the last in for a bit of humor. I mean if I don’t laugh I’ll cry. And if I cry.. well it’s never pleasant. Let’s just leave that where it is.

What do we do now? The household things need to be done. But obviously he can’t be left by himself anymore.

Having the timing that she does, Sue’s voice comes from downstairs. “Johnny?” She calls in a slightly panicky tone.

“Up here.” I call back, still looking at Daken’s mess. “You need to wash that off of you.” I say softly to him. “I’ll take care of the room and your clothes…”

“Hey,” Sue says walking down the hall towards us. “Your doors off it’s hinges…again. What are you..” She stops when she sees the room. “Oh god. Please tell me that’s not a person in there.”

I shake my head. “It’s all Daken’s. He… borrowed the neighbors chainsaw. Used it in my room for some reason.” I glance over Daken and to what I can see of her. “I was about to call you. I don’t think today is the best day for company.”

Sue shakes her head stubbornly. “Given the light of the situation I believe that now is absolutely the best time for company. Look at this mess… not to mention how Daken’s acting… or not acting I should say.” She looks at the man. “Hi, by the way. You.. are coated in blood.” She says in a very detached manner.

He doesn’t respond. He never responds to Sue. In the beginning he at least tolerated her. Now she might as well be talking to a rock.

“I see he’s his usually chatty self.” She gives me a smile, I know she’s feeling the same way I am. Laugh it off. Give yourself some room to find just a hint of humor to keep the maddening sadness off your back.

“Yeah. He’s been like that all day.”

“I hear you.” He says suddenly.

Sue opens her mouth, but I quickly hold up a hand to stop her from saying anything. “He’s not talking to us.” I explain quietly.

Sue’s mouth makes an ‘o’ of surprise. “ I know you said that he was suffering from… that- but I’ve never seen him do it personally.”

“Ya? Well sit back and watch. This is gonna be a hell of a night.” I turn away from the room, grabbing Daken’s arm and maneuvering him off my shoulder.

“You’re not getting the security deposit back on this place.” Sue says as she follows.

I snort. “Honestly, at the moment, I don’t think he gives a shit.”

“Where do you want to start?” She asks after a brisk laugh.

I nudge the door to the larger bathroom open. Not bothering to look at her as I push through. “I’m not asking you to clean up that mess.” I say sternly.

“Then maybe I could.. I don’t know- watch over Daken. Make sure that he doesn’t sneak off with a weed hacker or something.”

“How about just making sure he doesn’t drown himself?” I run some water into the large tub.

We don’t usually let guests in this bathroom. It’s… more private.

“Why does your mirror have a blanket over it?” Sue questions, peeking under one of the blanket's corners.

“Because if it didn’t, it would be broken.”

“Stop it.” Daken says in an aggravated tone.

Sue pauses, looking over the man and then back to me. “Does Samson know-“

“Yes.” I interrupt.

“And has he done anything to try and help?”

“Nope.” I spread my arms wide. “Just little ol’ me. It’s a full time job, let me tell you.” The water is filling up slowly while Daken stands there and mutters something to himself in Japanese. This isn’t something I wanted her to see. Everyone involved in this case is just happy to think that the extent of the side effects are just him being ‘sad’. They don’t want to face this ugly, bloody, mess they’ve caused.

“I’ll try and talk to Reed.” She offers. “I honestly don’t know how much pull he has in this, since he’s just a consultant- but it’s better than sitting back and doing nothing.”

“Thanks.” I say while lost in thought. I’ve got to get the chainsaw back where it came from. Which means I have to clean it first, and sneak back over to the neighbors- I mean I can’t just waltz over there and tell them that my mutant boyfriend wanted to test his regenerative powers with it. Questions would be brought up. Cops would be called. And Fury clearly said, “No drama”.

“Tubs full.” Sue says quietly behind me. “Almost over full… you might have to drain some of the water.”

Right. One task at a time.

“Daken… stay with Sue.” I look into his blank face. “Please.”

I wonder if she’ll be more uncomfortable cleaning up blood and gore or seeing Daken naked. I mean he wouldn’t make a pass at her or anything. Hell right now I’d put a heavy wager on the fact that he probably doesn’t even know where he is. Let alone whose in the room with him.

“He…” I sigh trying to think of a way to make this what I’m about to say sound less… crazy. “He may need some nudging… just watch the hands.” I warn.

“Is he violent?” She asks seriously.

“No.” I snap. I’m tired of people asking that. I’m sure when Logan was never questioned when he was with the Avengers.

“Okay.” She holds her hands skyward before rolling up the sleeves on her blouse. “Never really bathed a full grown man… let alone one with daggers in his hands. Should be something to check off the bucket list.”

 

Xxxxxxx

Clean the room. Wash the blood off the floor and windows… get rid of the bedding. I try to keep my mind from wondering too far as I do this. Just simple things like trying to figure out just what the fuck he tried to do to himself.

There are pieces of torn and ragged flesh dotting the floor. Whatever he did, he did it more than once.

Death has been something he’s been obsessed with lately. He broke into sobs the other night asking why he couldn’t stay dead. Why he had to come back.

I didn’t have an answer for him. I’m glad he came back- but I think it would have come off selfish if I’d told him at the time.

Sue moved Daken downstairs. He still hasn’t said a word. At least not to the two of us. I wish we had a telepath. A nice telepath. Not the ones that are running the procedures.

Those ‘anonymous’ telepaths. Hiding behind the closed doors and the office walls. I caught a glimpse of a few of them by accident the other day. Two I didn’t recognize. But I definitely know Emma Frost when I see her. I still can’t believe they’d call an x-man in to do it. The x-men are too… close to Logan. They can be persuaded either by their hate for him or their friendship towards him. Daken would just end up caught in their grasps which ever way they leaned.

It’s been a good three hours of scrubbing. Two of which I spent convincing myself not to just torch the place and get it over with. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep in this room again. Not after this.

A cough from behind me has me expecting Sue, but I’m surprised to see Daken when I turn around.

“Are you angry?” he asks childishly.

I look back down to the last puddle of blood I’m scrubbing. “No.”

“You smell angry.”

“I’m frustrated.” I scrub harder. “I don’t like seeing you hurt, Daken. You know that. I’m tired of having to clean literal pieces of you off the floor.”

“They grow back.” He says wistfully.

“That they do.” I sigh.

“I could help.” He suggests, walking over and bending down next to me on the carpet. He pops his claws and begins to shred the area the blood was soaking.

“Don’t-“ I laugh to myself. “don’t do that. Now there’s a hole in the floor.”

He doesn’t seem to care. His hands are busy dragging his claws down in a smooth motion against the fabric. “Done.”

Silence settles on us for a few moments. I’m staring at him intently and he seems to be staring at something over my shoulder.  
“You’re a mess.” I say finally with a shake of my head. I stand to my feet with a groan before reaching down to him to help him up. “Claws in.” I warn jerking my hand back when he reaches for me with them fully extended.

He smiles a little himself as if he’s just heard something funny. Maybe he has. Again- we really need a telepath. Not knowing what’s going on in his mind is frustrating.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The present.

“They’ll be done soon.” Sue says quietly from across the table. She’s draining her fourth cup of coffee while I stare vacantly out the window. It’s sunny outside. And the day of Christmas eve. The kids are excited as hell… people are cheery. And the world just seems to have stopped for me. I can’t celebrate. It’s like there’s some part of me that’s slowly dying. I’m sitting here watching it happen, and people around me are fucking happy. It’s maddening.

“I know.” I reply after some thought.

I guess this is how Logan feels as well. But he’s used to Daken being cold towards him. He hasn’t got to spend the time that I have with the man. I learned the fake emotions and the real ones. Times when he was being manipulative and times when he was bared and exposed for me. Cut to the quick. Psychological wounds that I could almost feel dripping with blood.

I never met Romulus… but I’m glad the fucker is dead. The destruction he’s left in is wake is unnatural. I try to talk to Logan about him- try to learn more , but he’s a lot like Daken in the fact that neither of them want to talk about him.

Nothing was guaranteed to make Daken shut up faster than bringing him up. Even if he’d been the one to bring him up first. Towards the end he would just blurt things out. Lessons- he called them. Things he’d been forced to learn over the years, most of which occurred when he was a small child.

“We should get down there.” Sue suggests.

Numbly I nod.


	17. I Say When

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i have some... interesting head cannon for Daken and Romulus. The comics hint at so much- but give away so little. 
> 
> That being said, this is a very, very sad chapter. 
> 
> mentions non con... briefly, but it's there. 
> 
> again... really really sad. Sorry y'all. My fingers didn't seem to want to stop typing. :p

I could describe what went down in the room while Rachel Grey was working with Daken. I could say that it went well- that they seem to think they’ve made a major breakthrough.

But I’m to preoccupied with the mess that’s been left in Miss Grey’s wake.

“Hold him!” Reed snaps.

“If I hold him any tighter, he’s going to break something,” I growl.

Logan grunts from beside me, having been put in charge of Daken’s other hand, the one that’s frantically trying to make it back to his face.. presumably to continue trying to gauge his eyes out.

“I’m sorry.” Rachel is in tears. “Logan I don’t know what happened!”

Another wail is wrenched from Daken’s lungs. He has no clue why we’re here, who we are, or why we’re forcing him down to the bed. Reed took the restraints off too early. Rachel thought that it was cruel to keep them on- she was under the impression that when he woke up he’d be able to sort through his own thoughts and behave in a reasonable fashion.

The hand I’m holding tenses. I know that tense. At any moment those claws are going to come busting out- tearing my own hands to shreds.

“Where are those fucking restraints?” Logan bellows from the other side of the bed.

Reed wraps an overextended arm over Daken’s legs, coiling it around a few times like python. “I don’t know, Logan. If I did we wouldn’t be in this predicament- would we?” he growls.

“Please don’t.” Daken continues begging.

The door to the room opens and Ben comes in with a box of restraints. “I didn’t know which ones were for what.” He explains, sort of sounding out of breath. “So I brought all of ‘em.”

“Wonderful.” Reed motions him over with his free hand. “Take my place.”

They make an awkward exchange as Reed tries to ease control over to Ben- there’s a second where no one is holding Daken down, and the two men receive quite a powerful kick for their efforts.

“You only get one of those kid,” Ben growls. “Next time I’ll break your foot.”

“Don’t threaten him,” Reed advises. “He’s barely containing his claws as is. Any more stress and Johnny and Logan could end up on the receiving end.”

Reed digs through the box of leather restraints while we all try to avoid eye contact with each other.

Rachel is hanging back with her hands plastered to her face. She thinks she tripped some kind of mental trap on her way out. One that had a delayed response. Making her think Daken would be fine when in actuality he was a turned into a ticking time bomb. She doesn’t want to go in his head again- and believe me, we’ve begged her to.

“Guys maybe I should-“

“Get the hell out of here, Rachel!” Logan snaps. “You’ve done enough.”

“I’m trying to tell you that Daken’s-“

“Get out,” Logan says dangerously low. “I won’t ask again.”

“Fine.” The woman snaps, turning heel and exiting the room.

“Please….” Daken pleads again. “Master- please. I don’t understand!” he wails the last part. God this is one hell of an episode. “I don’t… please. I haven’t done anything. Please.” He continues, breathlessly. “I haven’t done anything.” He repeats.

Logan looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Don’t we have any sedatives?” He demands. “Put the poor kid out of his misery for Christ’s sake!”

“That will only compound the problem when he wakes up,” Reed says distractedly while holding up two thick pieces of leather to examine them. “I’m looking for something to hold his neck…” He mumbles. “He tried to bite me when this started… I don’t think we’ll get anywhere with him in this state if he’s not completely rendered immobile.”

I can’t say anything. I can barely breathe. Last time he went full on like this- I got stabbed. I know he said he’s too afraid to use his claws- but I can still feel them straining. Logan tried to make me leave. He tried to control both of Daken’s hands- for my safety. But I wanted to be as close to his head as possible. I still believe that a part of him knows I’m here.

“Reed-“ Logan growls as Daken manages to lower his hand enough to make another violent attack on his own face. “Hurry up and do something- damn it!”

“I’m trying!” The man snaps.

“Trying isn’t good enough!”

“If you’re not strong enough to handle your own child- then maybe you shouldn’t be here,” Reed says nastily.

“And how the fuck would you respond if it was one of your children!?” Logan demands. “Tell me, Reed. How would you respond knowing that someone has taken your child and broken them as a means to an end, not once- but twice!? You think I’m not strong enough? I think I’ve done plenty of the heavy lifting here!”

Reed looks away from the box and stops his digging. “I wouldn’t LET my children be put in this position, for starters. And furthermore-“

“Don’t you start your science bullshit with me.” Logan snorts, cutting him off. “This is all some little experiment for you! Everything is one of Reed’s perfect little experiments and the minute it goes off the rails-“

“Back the fuck off, Logan,” Ben growls, almost releasing Daken. “He’s doing you a favor here!” he seems to remember that he has a reason for holding the man, and strengthens his hold.

“A favor? He’s doing me a favor!? You think it’s a favor that my kid has to stay here under lock and key!? Like I don’t want him somewhere safe and away from all this medical bullshit that isn’t doing a fucking thing to help him!?”

“It would help if your son wasn’t bat shit insane!” Reed bellows.

“And whose fault is that?!” Logan growls dangerously. “You were there Reed! You knew what this was doing to him and you let them continue!”

“For the greater good!” The man fires back. “Someone had to get the information-“

“Oh right,” Logan says darkly. “Information. You and Fury. You’re one in the same- aren’t you?”

Reed throws the box to the ground with a thud. “You get the hell out of my home!” He roars.

“If I do, I’m taking him with me!” Logan bellows back.

“He ain't goin' anywhere,” Ben interjects. “And neither are you, short stuff. Reed, you need to calm the hell down. This has gotten way out of hand.”

“You’re taking his side!?” Reed asks in disbelief.

“You can’t throw him out! He’s got to stay with the kid. And the kid sure as hell ain't leaving this building!”

The two bicker back and forth, occasionally allowing Logan to interject. As the fight rages on, their grips got looser and looser on Daken. His hand that Logan has been controlling has made a bloody mess of the right side of his face. The man doesn’t even seem to notice.

Why are they at each other’s throats all of the sudden? All this anger… hell, I can feel it in me as well. I’m angry at Reed. I’m angry at Rachel… fuck I’m even angry at Logan. If he had known Daken was alive- Daken would have never ended up with Romulus. There’d be no need for him to plead with the man. It’s Logan’s fault!

Wait… that’s not reasonable. That’s not rational. I don’t know-

“Pheromones.” I gasp. “That’s what Rachel was trying to tell you, Logan.” The man’s head snaps in my direction. “He can’t control his pheromones! He’s making us fight.”

The other three men in the room stare at me.

“He’s out of control and he’s cornered… if he makes us fight, he thinks we’ll be too busy with each other and we’ll let him go.” I stare at them. “In other words, if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all… and get back to fucking work!”

There are nods of agreement followed by complete and utter silence. The only sounds are the extremely distressed noises coming from Daken, whose yet to quit thrashing, and Reed picking up the box and sorting through it again.

I push past the boiling rage inside of me and take Daken’s fist to my mouth. Laying a kiss on the knuckles I say as softly as I can, “It’s okay. This will pass. It always passes.”

His eyes are wide but they shift to my face. I swear that his struggling lessens just the slightest.

“You don’t need to protect yourself. No one is trying to hurt you.” I kiss him again. His skin is hot, feverish almost. “You can stop pumping out those pheromones. Even if you did get them to fight- they wouldn’t forget about you.”

He shakes his head a few times before saying something in Japanese. I don’t have to understand the language to know what he’s said. His voice cracking in the middle was a good enough hint.

“You’re safe.” I continue. “He can’t get to you here. Not him, not Fury… not any of those doctors or telepaths. It’s just you and me.”

He closes his eyes tightly, not ceasing his struggling. “Reed,” I grab his attention without looking away from Daken. “Now is a great time to get those restraints…. He’s going to freak again when you put them on him. I’ve bought you at least three minutes.”

“There’s nothing to understand,” I say back to Daken. “You’re not being punished. The only one hurting you is yourself.”

Reed finally manages to find the correct combination of restraints. He attaches them to the almost invisible ports on the bed, and then looks to Logan and I. “Can you get him to lower his hands?”

That takes more effort than I thought it would. We’ve been holding his hands up and away from his body. Pushing them down to his sides is almost impossible. I get there first, nodding to Reed, who clasps the restraints around his wrist and then another around his bicep.

“What-“

“it’s okay Akihiro.” I soothe. “We’re just making sure you stay in one place.”

“Right,” Logan says to Reed, who’s ordering him on how to go about getting Daken’s other arm restrained.

When that’s done, Reed returns to my side of the bed and clasps another strip of leather to a port next to Daken’s neck.

“This is the one that’s going to be the most upsetting.” He warns. The strap is run through one port, stretched across his neck, (Logan had to push his head back against the mattress to the do so) and then clicked securely into the other port. Rendering his head immobile now.

Reed was right in his statement that this would be upsetting. Daken doesn’t like this at all. He jerks as hard as he can, making the restraint tighten against his movement to the point where he’s having a hard time breathing.

“Lay still,” Reed says in a soft tone. “You will be able to breathe perfectly. But you have to lay still.”

Daken does so grudgingly. They restrain his waist and legs anyway, though.

“There.” Reed let’s out a breath that I hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

The anger in the room is all but gone now. Daken’s far too freaked out to continue his steady stream of pheromones.

We all look somewhat sheepishly between each other.

“Listen..” Logan drawls.

Reed holds up a hand. “Maybe it’s best if we just pretend it didn’t happen.” He smiles after this. “That’s a wicked power your boy has.”

“Ya.” Logan looks over to the bed. “You sure we can’t sedate him?”

“Yes.” Reed frowns here. “We have to ride this episode out. Then we can sort it out. Honestly, he seems to be coming to the end of it.”

I snort at that. “The end? Oh no. These things are like hurricanes. He hasn’t got to the main performance yet.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Reed demands.

“We had little episodes and big episodes. Sometimes I had to lock him in a room by himself and hold the door shut- for hours.”

“What do you mean by ‘the main performance’?” Logan asks tiredly.

“He hasn’t played it out yet.” I murmur, looking over at the man in question.

“Played what out?” Logan is standing very close to me now. I feel energy almost radiating off of him.

“His lesson,” I state numbly. “This is a big episode. He won’t stop until he’s gone through a least one ‘lesson’.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” The older man growls.

“Romulus would teach him things. Painful things. Things about power and control… love, death, pain- you name it. There’s some twisted exercise that went along with it.”

“And you think he’s going to run through one of them?” Reed asks curiously.

I laugh darkly. “I KNOW he’s going to run through one of them. Maybe more than one. Depends on bad this episode is going to be.”

“You have a way to rate them?” Reed leans against the wall of the room looking out of place in his full uniform. Logan and I are both in plain jeans. Him in his usual flannel get up, and me in a ragged t-shirt. All in all, Reed is the only one screaming ‘super hero’ here.

“Ya. By how much English he can manage. How aware he is of his surroundings…. How much physical damage he’s done to himself. How self-aware he is…. Really it just goes on and on.”

“You think this will get worse?” Logan asks lowly.

I don’t have to answer. Daken’s pleading has once again picked up. I’m fearing he’s about to show them ‘pain’. It’s one of the hardest to watch him enact. Harder because you only hear one side of it. I feel for Logan now more than ever.

I turn to him. “I think you should leave.”

He stares at me blankly. “What?”

“I know what’s about to happen… and I don’t think he’d want you to see it.”

The man gives me a glare as if he’s trying to decide if I’m serious or not. “I’m staying.” He says finally, walking away from me and over to the head of the bed.

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” Daken gasps.

“What don’t you understand?” Logan asks, sounding very comforting.

“Why.” Daken answers.

“Why what?”

“I don’t… I can’t…”

I cough to get Logan’s attention. “Don’t… talk to him- okay? It only confuses him worse. Let him do what he’s got to… it’ll last for maybe an hour. You’ll know when he’s done.”

The man looks at me with a strange look in his eye. “How many ‘lessons’ have you seen, Johnny?”

I feel the numbness in my voice as I answer, “All of them. He has his favorites. Then there are the rare ones… this is one of the worst.”

“What are they?” Reed asks from behind me.

“They’re…” I think for a few seconds, “More like memories of conversations. Scripted. Always the same one. It differs sometimes depending on if you try to snap him out of it.”

“And this one… what event transpired that made him remember the exact conversation that led up to it?”

“I’ve already told you that.” I pull a chair over from the other side of the room and put it by the bed. I know better than to directly touch him, so I settle for stroking his leg through the fabric the covers him. He still twitches when my fingers make contact.

“Pain,” Logan states more to himself. “I guess a lot of it.” He follows my lead and pulls the other chair over beside mine. He leans down low, elbows resting on his knees. One arm hanging limply by his side and the other holding his head up. He looks tired. Hell, we all look tired. Just another reason why I want him to go.

“It’s hard to tell what exactly he’s been through,” I say as Daken starts to cry out for what I know won’t be the first time. “His body can’t show a scar. You have to pay attention. Really close attention. What he says, how he reacts to certain things…. And then sometimes he goes into one of these ‘episodes’ and you can pretty much connect the dots for yourself.”

“What do you think happened?” Reed asks quietly, so as not to disturb Daken. It’s a funny thought. Disturbing someone who is obviously already disturbed.

I shrug. “He talks about an object. A lot. He really doesn’t like it. I don’t know… he’s whole vocabulary changes. He was young when it happened. Really young. I recorded him doing this one once… looked up the translation for when he switches into Japanese…” I stop for a second to clear my head. “It’s not pretty.”

“Well, what was the object?” Reed just keeps pressing. I’m trying not to talk about it in front of Logan, I was hoping he would realize this. I know more than I’m letting on. I’ve done a lot more research on this than I should have.

“Some kind of metal thing…. It’s old. You apply heat to it… I don’t think it was ever used in the English-speaking world. It’s just old. Really, really old. Even for back then. And then there were more usual kinds of torture. Things you would expect.”

“Like…” he prompts.

“Rape,” Logan says after a few minutes of listening to Daken’s tearful litany of Japanese. I pretend not to notice that his claws have slid free of knuckles and are currently slightly embedded in the flooring.

“Oh.” Reed’s eyes are wide. “I… I think that should go in the files or something.” Reed turns around and goes to the door. “I’ll go adjust his charts.”

“You do that,” Logan says numbly.

Logan needs no translation. He hears this conversation play out from the beginning to the end, straight from the source. There is no wait period for him to know what’s going on. English and Japanese weave together in his mind just as much as they do in Daken’s. I know this is heartbreaking. I sobbed for hours after we got to one particular part. I translated it while Daken was sleeping. He didn’t have a clue. Just woke up to crying and assumed it was something he had done. I never had the heart to tell him what I’d discovered. I still don’t. I think he’s better off thinking that he’s safe because of the language barrier.

It’s a tough hour that we endure. Daken runs through the full gamut of ‘permitted’ emotions. Fear, sadness, desperation, agony- never anger, though. He was never allowed to be angry- not with Romulus.

By the end of the hour, when Daken’s mind has finally replayed out this horrible scene, I pretend that the only crying I hear is Daken’s. Logan’s a private man, after all.


	18. Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lot's of fluff dispersed throughout this chapter. Gah. Let's just say 'gah' and leave it there. Hope y'all enjoy!

The screams have died down to mere whimpers. The man emitting them has lost his voice three times in the process of this little breakdown. Logan and I sit patiently, comforting when necessary, but mostly in silence.

The end always comes with the usual questions. “Why?” Being his favorite. He doesn’t understand why this happened to him. He doesn’t understand why it went on for so long. Or why no one would help him. These things have haunted him for years. He wore masks of boredom and malice to cover the self-loathing and confusion. There are no masks now. This is him. Solely him. This broken, sobbing, pleading mess.

Logan can’t bare it anymore. He clears his throat. “It always surprises me.” He says gently. “How much you look like your momma.”

Daken turns his eyes from the wall beside the bed to his father.

“You got my eyes… but all her beauty. Looking at you, it’s almost like looking at her.”

I continue holding Daken’s hand. His grip strengthens just a little as if he needed something to hold onto.

“She was so happy when we found out about you.” He continues. “I remember that day. She was glowing.”

“Stop.” Daken pleads. With Logan or with his memories, I’m not sure.

“She was about six months along when it happened.” Logan presses on. “I thought you were dead. I was blind with rage and hatred…. I didn’t stop to think that you could have my healing factor. It never occurred to me to check.”

Daken’s face is more pained than I thought possible for it to be. “She didn’t have a name picked out yet… but she had a feeling you were going to be a boy. She just knew somehow.” Logan smiles to himself. “And I was excited. We both were. We couldn’t wait to meet you. To hold you- bring you into this world in the best possible way.”

 Daken wants to turn away. I can see it written all over his face. A glance at Logan tells me that he sees it too. “Listen… for what’s it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Logan says gently. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that. You didn’t deserve any of it. I understand why you were so angry at me.” He takes a breath. “Hell, I’d understand if you are still angry at me.”

“I’m not,” Daken says quietly.

Logan smiles briefly. “The point is….” He drawls, “fuck I don’t know what the point of telling you that was… I just think you needed to know. She was the world to me. And you were the world to her.”

“What was her name?” I ask before I can stop myself. I feel like I shouldn’t be here. Like I should have dissolved into the floor and left them to this private moment. I feel even worse for having broken it.

“Itsu.” Logan says, not taking his eyes off of his son. “Did you know that? I don’t think I ever told you.” He smirks. “She had a gentle face… Gentle soul really. Hair as black as yours. She could light up a room with just a smile. I figure you could too if you ever put your mind to it.”

 She sounds beautiful. She must have been if Wolverine still remembers her so vividly after all these years. I can almost see it in my head, a gentle, female version of Daken. He had to get his beauty from somewhere. Not that Logan isn’t attractive… to some people anyway. But he can’t hold a candle to his son. Daken’s mother must have been beauty incarnate. I wish he’d had that. That bond. From what he’s told me, he wasn’t even born. She was already dead when he was removed from her. She never got to hold him. Never even got to see him. It was a long while back- no ultrasounds back then. She never even got to see if she’d had a son or a daughter. My memories of my own mother are few and in between. But I remember her loving me. I remember being held. I know what’s like to have had that and then lost it- but I can’t fathom never having it from the start.

“She’d want you to be happy. Really happy, Akihiro. To be settled with someone who loves you- not because you made them, or because you’re after something from them- just loves you.”

Daken closes his eyes for so long that I think he’s actually gone to sleep.

“I think she’d approve of this asshole over here,” Logan says quietly.

I think I may have just got Wolverine’s blessing… in not so many words.

I don’t even mind that he called me an asshole. Insults from him are not to be taken too seriously. I think he insults everyone- whether he likes them or not.

“You should go,” Daken whispers. “I’m tired.”

“Alright,” Logan replies, but he doesn’t move. Eventually, he gets to his feet, and leans over the bed, pressing a kiss to the top of Daken’s head. “I’m sorry, Akihiro. I really am.”

The door closes softly behind Logan as he leaves, and I’m too stunned to say anything. I bet he’d been dying to show his son some token of his affections for years. Daken never lets him get close enough… and I’m the asshole who just witnessed it.

“You going to sleep?” I ask stupidly.

“No,” Daken replies after a few silent moments.

“You want me to leave?”

“No.”

I never liked this game. I wonder if he knows that we’re playing it. We used to do this all the time. Each of my questions becoming more and more playful.

“What do you want?” I ask finally.

“Lay with me.”

I don’t need to be told twice. I nudge the chairs out of the way and consider how to go about doing this. “The restraints are going to be in the way-“ I conclude finally.

“Remove them.” He pleads.

“Reed would have my ass,” I say this with a smile. “You really should go to sleep, though.” This is added in a more serious tone.

He doesn’t respond.

“Did hearing him talk about your mom upset you?”

Daken goes back to looking at the wall.

“I don’t suppose Romulus ever tried to tell you about her…”

“Stop it.” He hisses.

“Alright.” I figure that was pushing it just a little bit. Not knowing what else to do, I bend down and capture his lips in a brief kiss. I’ve wanted to for a long time. But he’s been too out of it for me to press the subject. He looks startled at first but then relaxes.

“You taste like whatever shit Reed’s been feeding you.” I tease when I pull back.

He makes a disgruntled noise of affirmation.

“If you’d like, I could go get you some real food…”

He just stares at me blankly.

I’m losing him again. He’s slipping. Fading. Whatever you want to call it.

“Sleep,” I order gently. “Reed will probably be along soon to check on you… I think he’s over his embarrassment of what happened.”

I don’t mention the part about Logan mentioning rape. I don’t think he was in the right frame of mind to remember it.

“Logan knows.” He says just as I turn around.

“Knows what?”

His eyes are cloudy again. “He knows.”

I know what he’s on about. I regret bringing the Reed thing up. “I suppose.”

“Don’t… don’t let him find out any more.”

“Daken…” I sigh. “He’s seen the tapes they sent us. He’s seen the videos I made-“

“Your videos?” He smirks his half there smirk. “You published them?”

“Yea… it’s kinda what lead to us rescuing you.”

“Can I see them?”

“No,” I answer flatly. “You were there. You know what happened.”

“But-“

“I don’t want you re-watching that. Opening up old scars….” I shrug off the oncoming sense of dread attached to that statement. “Maybe when you’re feeling better… you know- doing the whole ‘eating’ thing again.”

“He listened,” Daken says cryptically.

“We all did.”

“But he listened.”

I sigh. “Yes. He heard. You put on quite a show.”

“I didn’t want him to-“

“Maybe it’s for the best.” I try to quickly end the subject at hand. I don’t want to go another round of what daddy does or doesn’t know. Daken and I have a few fights while he’s in a somewhat confused state and going on about what Logan thinks he knows. Daken never realized how much he revealed during those arguments.

“He can’t,” Daken says quieter than before.

“But he does. Now… get some sleep okay?” I put the subject, as well as it’s owner, to bed. Hoping that the both of them stay there.

“Where are you going?” he calls after me.

I flash him a smile meant to be calming. “I have to eat, Daken. And shower… maybe sleep some. I’ll be back.”  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’ve always liked being hot rather than cold. Even more so after I got my powers.

The bathroom is filled with steam. Thanks to Reed’s state of the art building- the water never loses temperature.

I’ve been in here for at least forty-five minutes. Just standing here. I gave up on actually washing after I ran out of things to wash. It’s funny how caught up you can get in another person. I’ve barely had a moment to myself the last few days.

There is nothing that can drag me from this shower. Nothing at all. That’s why I’ve purposefully ignored the knocks and voices yelling at me from the other side of the locked door.

They’ll give up eventually.

Get the message and all of that.

Water runs down my body in hot, pelting streams. I’m looking a little underfed. I really have to remember to start eating.

I have to stand with my back to the shower head- so as not to disturb the chest wounds I got from Bullseye. Lester- Daken had called him. Should I be jealous that they were on a first name basis?

The thought of that… that psychopath on Daken makes me cringe. Who knows what a sadist could do to someone with regenerative powers. How much Daken let him do.

I know Daken is no saint. He can’t be. He’s been turned into this weapon of destruction so finely tuned, that it took five or so telepaths to break him. What’s left was shaped into the mess that is Daken now, by Fury. It’s hard to say… what he would have turned into if Fury hadn’t got a hold of him. If we’d left like I promised we would. If it was solely my influence he was under.

A noise directs my attention to the bathroom door, I pull the shower curtain aside to see very slender, distorted fingers reaching up to undo the lock.

“Reed!” I shout.

The door swings open. “This is the only bathroom in the communal room of the living quarters. If you wanted to take an hour long shower- you should have done it in your own room.”

“You’re not going to use the bathroom while I’m in the shower.” I grouse.

“No… but I’m not going to let you sulk in the shower for another minute- either.”

“Go... go do something.” I’m losing the fight to well… fight. I don’t like being naked in front of my brother in law. I don’t care if there’s a curtain in between us. No one gets to see me in all my glory without my say so… unless I’m drunk, that is. God that would be great right now- a drink. Strong. Vodka, maybe.

“Get out of the shower, get dressed, and come socialize with your family.” The man orders. “You deserve a break from babysitting duty.”

“I’m not-“

He holds up his now normal hand. “I put enough sedatives in Daken to keep him asleep for the next four hours. I figured that would give you enough time to at least sit down and have a meal with us.”

“You can’t do that!” I yell, rage quickly filling up my chest.

“He deserved some sleep and you deserved some down time.” Reed shrugs. “The fact that two coincided is a happy coincidence.”

“You can’t keep drugging him,” I growl.

“He needs to be drugged.”

“No one-“

“He doesn’t eat. He doesn’t sleep. If he’s not gone into some spiraling psychotic break- then all he does is lie there. You and Logan can’t keep him occupied all of the time- you know. We’ve got to find something to do when the two of you can’t be there.”

“Fine,” I growl.

I wait for a second, but he’s still standing there.

“You want to leave Reed, or are you going to stay for the show?” I’m still angry. And it seems to have made the room hotter. If fact it’s almost unbearably hot.

“You’re angry.” He says pointedly.

“What? I’m-“

“You set the shower curtain on fire.” He points.

“Shit!” I yank the curtain down into the spray of water, sending steam and the smell of cinched cloth into the air.

“I thought you had better control of your powers than that.” The man says curiously.

“Ya, well I’ve been a little upset here recently.” I groan. “Will you get out so I can get dressed?” I snap.

The man shrugs and closes the door. Nudity doesn’t bother him. He’s a scientist after all. It bothers the hell out of me when sex isn’t involved. Except for Daken… which is a weird case all on its own?

I stare down at the curtain in covering the drain. Today is going to continue to be a long day. And just when I thought I was over with the worst of it.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner with the family, plus Logan, is interesting. The kids are rambling on about what Santa brought them, their experiments, and their home ‘modifications’ as they call them. Really just a word for the fact that they’ve been trying to improve things around the tower. Meaning that Reed and Sue are going to be busy un-improving them later tonight.

"Of course the modifications-"   
  
"Modifications set the couch on fire," Ben grumbles over Franklin. 

"I thought you said Johnny set the couch on fire?" Sue asks with a smirk. 

"Did I?" Ben grins. 

"Stop blaming me for every little thing that gets burned," I demand with a smile of my own. "I haven't even been up here." 

"It was the robot!" Franklin says happily. "I configured it-"   
  
"No flame throwers." Reed and Sue say at the same time. 

"Uncle Johnny is more than enough," Sue adds. 

Franklin sulks for a moment before saying, "I wish I had fire powers." 

"Your powers are more than enough," Sue says sweetly. "Everyone is different." 

"Daken's powers are cool," Val adds, drawing the attention of everyone to her. "The emotion thing?" She says. "I wish I could do that." 

"Yes, his powers are very interesting," Reed affirms. 

"Do you know how they work?" 

I'm sure it's in one of the 'doctors' notes from his time in captivity. 

The thought makes me cringe. 

"Pheromones," Logan says simply. 

"Like when animals want to mate?" Franklin asks. 

"Mate?" Sue looks pointedly at Reed. 

Reed puts his hands up. "I left him with Ben for an hour." 

"We were watching Discovery Chanel." Ben defends. 

There's some quiet laughter. 

"You can tell Johnny hasn't been cooking up here," Ben says with a  chuckle. "None of the food is burnt." 

"I do not burn the food." I groan. 

"You don't not burn the food," Sue says.

"I do not burn the food! I repeat. 

"Your aversion to stoves is quite baffling." Reed comments. 

"I don't need a stove!" I protest. "I can cook things in my hands." 

"Just because you  _can_  don't mean you  _should,_  flame brain." Ben chuckles. 

I focus on his spoon full of Maccaroni and turn the heat up enough to sting. 

He spits it out quickly. "Very funny." He grouses. 

"Too hot?" I tease.   
  
This feels good. 

This feels... like something I want to share with Daken. Maybe we should bring him up here for a while. 

"Do you think..." I start but I don't know how to finish. 

"Think what?" Ben grumbles. 

"I don't know. I was thinking that maybe bringing Daken up here... to eat with  us- might be a good idea?" 

Everyone is quiet. 

"You'd never get him back down to the med-wing." Logan says after some thought. 

"I don't like that he never gets out of that room." 

I left him tied up to a bed. Oh god. I left him tied up to a bed. 

 “Why doesn’t Daken get to eat with us?” Val asks between a bite of mac and cheese.

"Well sweetie," Reed says. "He's sick. He doesn't know how to ... act." 

"He's bad so you keep him tied up to the bed?" She questions. 

"He's not 'bad'," Sue interjects. 

"But you're scared of him," Franklin interjects. 

"We're not scared of him," Reed says. "We're scared for him. He hurts himself." 

"... So he can't move- ever?" Val asks. 

"Well..."   
  
"He can't go to the bathroom?" She presses

He'd bang his head on the wall until he bled. Reed told me that was what he was doing in the corner before they got him on the bed. 

"No," Reed says. "He can't." 

"Does he have to sleep in the same position every night?" 

These are questions I hadn't thought of. Maybe I should have. 

"Well..." 

"Can't you tie him down differently?" She asks. 

"We're not 'tying him down'," Sue says. "We're restraining him. So he can't hurt himself." 

"Why doesn't he just claw the restraints?" Franklin asks. 

"And why is he hurting himself? Val adds

She keeps fixating on Daken. If I didn’t know any better- I’d say it was a crush. Okay- it’s definitely a crush. Daken’s her favorite topic. It started off with her just trying to figure out what was wrong with him… and then evolved into this… fangirling of sorts.

“Because he’s sick,” Sue says evenly, not looking at either Logan or myself.

"So if you hurt yourself you have to be tied to a bed?" Franklin questions. "You can't just tell him to stop?" 

Reed regards his son for a second. "You know actually, I haven't tried telling him to stop." 

"Maybe you should," Val says. 

Maybe we should. 

I can't imagine it going over well. 

"He needs to take a shower." She continues. "And brush his hair." 

He does need to brush his hair. She's right. I should try to help him tonight. 

"I'll make sure he does," I promise. 

"Maybe he won't be so sad if he could take care of himself." Franklin offers. 

"The problem is that he can't take care of himself." I try to explain.   
  
I was doing it. 

"What happened?" 

This is the kind of interrogating I was not expecting from children. Even kids as smart as Franklin and Val. 

"Bad people," Ben says when no one else speaks up. "The bad guys got him." 

"And they made him sick?" Val sounds worried. 

"Yea," Logan says with a nod. "They made him sick." 

"Which bad guy?" Franklin presses. "Can't you go back and make them fix it?" 

Logan seems upset by that. "I can't." He says. "I tried." 

Before it happened. 

Before any of this happened.   
  
If Daken had listened. If he hadn't hated Logan so much. 

If Logan had found him earlier. 

"Kid's got a hell of a lot of demons," Ben adds. "It's kinda disturbing." 

"He's so... unlike how he was," Sue adds. 

"They worked him over," Logan says. "He..." he stops. "When I got him, he didn't even understand that we were there to help him." 

I'm told Logan took a choice few x-men with him.... but the only person he allowed near Daken during the rescue was Laura. 

Daken's... sister? 

I don't know what he sees her as. 

How do they really expect him to act? 

How much of Daken was... Daken? 

Where does Akihiro fit into this?

"He was brainwashed. We don't know how he was supposed to be." I say in thought. 

But there was a time when he was sharp. Funny. Had 'spunk'. A time when he fought for himself. 

A time when he wasn't afraid.   
  
He's so scared. He's scared all the time and there's nothing I can do about it. 

His face is horror-stricken. His eyes have dark circles. He looks like a patient in a horror movie asylum. 

"He's sick," Sue repeats. “And he needs to stay in the med-wing.”

“Is he in pain?” The girl switches to eating a chicken nugget, looking at her mother imploringly.

“Well, sweetie, pain is a relative term. There are lots of different kinds of pain- you see.”

“He must be,” Franklin interjects. “We heard him crying.”

Sue sighs into her hand. “I told you to stay out of the medical bay.”

“We were looking for you,” Val says impatiently.

“Well…”

“He was talking to someone.” The girl interrupts. “But there was no one in the room. A very vivid hallucination." She nods. 

“He’s on a lot of medication,” Reed says after some thought. “It makes you a bit… loopy.”

“Yea… but he was talking to uncle Johnny.” Val continues. “We thought he was in there with him. It didn’t sound like he was loopy. He really thought he was there.”

“Well… honey, you see- um,” Sue looks to her husband for help, who just shrugs.

“Sometimes…. There are sicknesses that make people see or hear things that aren’t there.” Logan says unexpectedly, setting down his fork. “Daken doesn’t know that Johnny’s not in the room.”

"I know that." She says sweetly. "I read his chart. I just wanted to know why he thought Uncle Johnny was there." 

He thought I was there. 

He thinks of me when I'm not there. 

He misses me enough for his brain to tell him I'm not there. 

This is... a milestone. 

“He sounded sad.” Val looks at me pointedly. She’s a bit jealous, I think. I mean it is apparent that her little ‘crush’ on Daken is borderline obsessive. She’s constantly asking about him. Wanting to know everything. We have to be careful what we say or where we leave charts and papers.

“He’ll be alright.” I say cheerfully. “Well take him something to eat in a little while-“

“You mean daddy has to put that tube in his mouth again.” Val goes back to the mac and cheese.

I look at the girl's parents in a helpless manner. “How often is she down there?” I ask when I can manage it.

“I don’t know.” Reed looks at his daughter. “Sweetie how have you been seeing all of this with no one noticing you?”

The girl looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Look- it was Franklin’s idea!”

“It was not!” The boy says defensively. “She found it! I just made it better!”

“Found what?” Sue asks sharply.

“Cloaking device.” Val looks down at her rapidly emptying plate. “Franklin said he could make it into a cloak… like Harry Potter.”

“You… you made an invisibility cloak?” I ask, impressed.  
“We just wanted to know what was going on.” Val whines. “We heard uncle Ben running through the house today looking for straps. We wanted to know why.”

“Wait… why were the restraints up here?” I ask suspiciously.

Reed very pointedly looks down at his plate before clearing his throat. “That’s neither here nor there. What’s important is that the children understand boundaries. I think we’ve talked about this before. This is a very sensitive case. There are a lot of people involved that don’t like certain things to be known by other people.” He looks between his children. “Are we understood?”

“Yes, sir.” The two say in unison.

“Good… now tell me how you managed to manipulate the cloaking components while maintaining structural integrity.”

“Reed.” Sue sighs with an eye roll.

Definitely worth getting out of the shower for.


	19. Gotta Promise Not Stop When I Say When

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo... our time with johnny narrating has come to an end. I was writing this chapter... and suddenly wrote one from Daken's POV and it turned out pretty cool me thinks. So there will be another part to this story, told from Daken... and that's all i'm going to say about that. 
> 
> Enjoy y'all. Thank you so much for coming along with for the first part of this crazy mind baby i've created. Hope y'all enjoy the second part as much as the first!

“You’re faking being asleep so they’ll leave you alone.” I state with a smile. I’ve been watching my significant other try to pass himself off as unconscious to wide assortment of medical professionals for the last thirty minutes. It was cute at first…. Now I just want to talk to him.

He says nothing. Still feigning sleep.

“That won’t get you out of this,” I say with a smile. “Reed’s going to come down and do your nightly routine. He won’t care if your sleeping- or pretending to sleep for that matter. If anything that will only encourage him.”

‘Nightly Routine’ sounds wrong. Too cold. Caring for someone who has lost the will to care for themselves is a taxing job. I suppose there should be some level detachment from the situation. I guess it helps that Daken never speaks to Reed. Helps the man pretend that he’s not really all there all of the time. Him not being lucid can make things extremely difficult- or extremely easy. Him doing this let’s Reed avoid all kinds of embarrassment.

Reed has calmly asked me not to help at night. He knows I don’t like to see Daken man handled. In fact- I often get in the way. So most nights I leave around eight and come back in an hour or so. Usually, if he’s not giving them trouble, they’re done by then.

Tonight, however… I don’t think I’ll leave. Reed is tired. He needs to be with Sue and the kids. So I’ve resigned myself to helping- whether he wants me to or not.

“You got out of lunch because you were sleeping. Don’t think he’s going to let you skip another meal for the same reason.”

Daken opens his eyes just the slightest. Looking kind of annoyed that I didn’t buy his performance. I’ll give him this- it was very convincing. If I hadn’t seen the miniscule flinch he’d pulled when one of the doctors touched him- I wouldn’t have known. But then, I’ve been taking care of him for a while. I know what to look for.

“Still not all there, huh?” It’s a rhetorical question. His face has that vacant expression, eyes looking unfocused. It’s not the drugs. He’s just out of it again.

Sometimes I think he’s better like this. When he’s not reacting- he can’t feel pain, right? Everything seems to stop for him. He reaches the closest thing to peace that he possibly can. But then, that’s not sane. We strive for sanity here. We force it upon him. Drag him back, force him to deal with the situation at hand.

These are things that Sue had told me I should do before Fury took him. ‘Make him do things’ she’d said. ‘You’ve got to make him function.’

Function. How can someone possibly function when all they’re experiencing is pain?

“Maybe that’s for the best.” I sigh. “The last few days haven’t been particularly easy, I know. But soon, soon we’ll be able to leave. I promise. You won’t have to stay here a minute longer than necessary.”

“Liar.” He says quietly.

“Ya?” I frown a little. “I meant what I said, Daken. We’re leaving as soon as we can. We’ll go wherever we want.”

“Maybe.”

“No, not maybe. Definitely. It’s just going to take some time.”

“Such a girl.”

There’s an actual hint of humor in his voice. It makes me smile despite myself.

“Ya? Well, I’ll remember that the next time someone needs to wash you… maybe let Ben do it.”

That doesn’t get a response.

“I figured I’d stick around tonight… help Reed out some. You okay with that?”

“Like it matters.” He says dismissively. “My opinion doesn’t count.”

“It would.” I consider my next words carefully, “if it were in your best interest. You, as of right now, don’t have a clue what’s in your best interest. Hence- your opinion not weighing into much of our decisions.”

“Who gets the final say?” He questions after some thought.

“Huh?”

His face still has that glazed over look. I don’t know how he’s even managing complete sentences right now.

“Who is legally in charge of me?”

Oh… this could result in some unpleasantness. “They haven’t told you?”

“They don’t tell me anything.”

“They would… you just have a tendency to have little ‘breaks’ from reality when you’re upset. Stress makes them worse. Reed’s been trying to limit your stressors as much as possible.”  
“And yet they insist on keeping me here.” He says quietly.

“Here is safe. You can’t hurt yourself here.”

“I want to go home.” He says, emotionlessly.

I sigh. “I know. Of course, you do. No one wants to be stuck here. Just trust that it’s in your best interest. Things could be a lot worse.”

“Like back in the hospital.” He states, his eyes closed once more. It’s actually the first time he’s brought it up. No one’s dared to try and talk to him about it.

“Ya.”

“So who’s calling my decisions for me?”

“Your dad. And me, sort of.”

“Where do I go after here?” He continues.

“Well… I mean anywhere you want.” I say after some thought. It could take years for him to be released from here. More years yet until he’s able to take over some aspects of his life.

“IS there an ‘after here’? Or am I just stuck like this?”

“I…” I sigh. “Honestly Daken, I don’t know. You’re sick. We’ve known it for a while. Fury.. he exploited that. Compounded upon it… I mean you’re probably not even going to remember us having this conversation.”

He smiles darkly. “True.”

“How long do you think you have… before you lose it again?”

“Five minutes… tops.”

“Yea? I can work with that.” I bend down over the bed and kiss him again, slower this time. Longer. It’s an awkward angle but it’s one of the best kisses I’ve ever had in my life. To be honest, every time I kiss him it’s one of the best.

“I love you,” I say when I pull back. “You know that right?”

I wait for him to acknowledge that I’ve spoken, and then remember that he can’t move his head.

“And you know that I’m not going to let anything happen to you- right?”  
“Yes.” He says so quietly that it’s almost a whisper.

“Just checking.” I smile, kissing him again.

It’s odd, him not being able to use his hands or even move his head. All of our contact depends directly on me. How far I’m willing to take it. And- regardless of what other parts of me seem to think- we’re going to stick to just kissing. There will be years after this for us to.. ya know. Years where he’s more steady. Where his lucidity lasts for more than twenty minutes at a time.

I wish I could lay with him. Feel his pulse… something to assure me that he’s still living under these conditions. Sure… he’s kept well enough. They wash him. Clothe him. Feed him- all of that. But he’s not free. Daken needs to have at least some level of freedom. Right now it’s like he’s been de-clawed.

My mouth slips from his lips to the side of his neck. He smells like hospital. But underneath it is that scent… the one that’s purely him. No pheromones… nothing masking it- just him.

He makes a small noise at my action. I’m wondering if I should pull back.

“Uh hmm.” I freeze on the spot at the sound of the small, very obviously out of place, girl tapping her foot behind me.

“Val.” I sigh, pulling back and turning around to look at the girl. She’s changed into a pair of what look like dress slacks- which I didn’t know they made for kids, but trust my niece to own a pair- and an honest to god white lab coat. She’s even balled her hair up into a bun similar to Sue’s. Again I’ll state that she looks like Sue’s mini- me. “We just talked about this.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” She demands.

“I was… talking with Daken about something very important.” I lie instantly. “Isn’t that right?” I turn back to Daken, who just stares at me with a sad ‘what are you doing?’ look.

“It looked like you were trying to make out with him.” She says pointedly.

I stare at her dumb founded. “How do you even know what ‘making out’ is?”

“I read.” The girl says defensively. It seems like such an odd statement to come from a child.

“Well, that’s none of your business, Val.”

“It is if it concerns my patient.” She says heatedly.

I have to chuckle at that. “He’s not your patient. He’s your dad’s patient.”

“Which means that when dad’s not around-“

“You’re to leave him a lone.” I’m still laughing, looking down at her cute features bunched up in annoyance. “You’re not supposed to be down here- remember?”

“Well… dad’s busy. I figured I could come help.”

I raise an eyebrow before swooping the small girl into my arms and slinging her over my shoulder.

Her anger is replaced by a yelp of surprise and glee in an instant. “You know if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to steal my boyfriend.” I tease.

She yelps again, as I jostle her slightly. “Am not.” She says through laughter.

“Well, that’s a relief.” I sigh putting her down. “Cuz you’re a lot prettier than me. I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

There’s a noise that’s definitely some form of a chuckle from Daken.

“He’s awake?” She squeaks.

“Yup. And now he knows that you’ve been trying to weasel your way in between us.” I wink at her.

She giggles. “You’re silly uncle Johnny.”

“Yup.” I pull my phone out of pocket and check the time. “Better get out of here squirt. It’s almost time for your dad to do his rounds.”

She stops by the door. “What’s dad going to do to him?”

That makes me stop and think. “Nothing sweet heart. Just get him ready for bed. Daken will be fine.”

“You’re sure he won’t hurt him?” She asks fretfully. “he fights an awful lot when daddy tries to help him.”

“Daken…” I sigh, knowing the man can hear me. “He just wants to be left alone. Your dad is doing what needs to be done.”

Seeming satisfied with my answer, the girl quickly runs away from the med wing. I step out into the hall and watch her open and air duct and hop in. Damn. It hits me for the millionth time since Sue had kids- these munchkins are smart. I’m debating on whether or not to tell Reed that they’re using the air ducts to sneak around when said man comes strolling down the hallway.

“Johnny.” He greets.

I stand there still lost in thought for a second.

“Are you... um leaving? You’re in the doorway.”

“Oh.” I snap back into it. “No, no. I thought I’d stay around and help tonight. So you could- ya know. Get back to Sue and the kids.”

“A sweet gesture… but I think you’d be better suited elsewhere. These procedures are a little rough to watch. I’d hate for you to think I was hurting him intentionally.”

“What do you mean by ‘rough’?” I ask suspiciously.

“Johnny…” Reed sighs. “You do know that in order to feed him, I have to force about two feet of tubing down his throat. He doesn’t just lie there. He fights back.”

“He fights you.” I repeat in an unbelieving manner.

“Yes. And then we have to get him washed… which is another battle- mostly him trying to get away… changing his clothing is completely impossible. It takes at least twenty minutes on its own… “ He frowns. “It’s a messy thing.”

“And you do this every night?”

Reed looks me over in a serious motion. “Who else is going to do it? Logan can barely touch him without him freaking out and you don’t have the stomach for it.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” I say somewhat lamely.

Reed looks me over for a second before nodding. “Alright. I’m sure he’d prefer your assistance rather than Ben’s, anyway.”

I move aside to let Reed into the room, quickly following him.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what we’re going to do.” He addresses Daken. “I know your days and nights have gotten a little mixed up due to the sedation, though. So I’ll go over it again. More for Johnny’s sake than yours.” Reed looks at me now. “First we’re going to insert the feeding tube… I keep it down the hall. I’d be appreciative if you would go retrieve it for me. Then we need to wash him. And then change his clothes…. We’ll worry about the bedding tomorrow.”

A thought hits me out of nowhere. An embarrassing thought. “What if he has to.. ya know?”

“What?” The man asks curiously.

“I don’t ever see you let him up to take care of business.” I try again.

“Johnny… please be clearer with your questions.” Reed states while walking over to the bed.

“The bathroom, Reed. Why doesn’t he have to use the bathroom?”

Reed smiles at my discomfort. “he has a catheter in, of course. And… well, really there’s a number of things involved with that. I’ll spare you the details.”

Gross. But question answered.

“Go down to the storage closet and get the feeding materials.” Reed encourages with a wave of his hand. “I’ve got to check over a few things. I’m certain he’d be more comfortable if you were out of the room.”

“Right…” I walk out of the room and down the hallway to said closet. It houses a variety of mismatched items. Scientific equipment- ‘toys’ they’ve taken away from the kids, everything really. By the door is a gray cart hosting a variety of long, clear tubes. On the underside there are several medium sized bottles of greenish liquid with an attachment at the top… it looks gross. I guess since the tube is run down his throat he doesn’t have to taste it. But still… gross.

Not knowing what to grab, I just take the whole cart. Hoping Reed is done ‘checking’ whatever needs to be checked.

He’s removed the blankets from the bed when I get back. Reed doesn’t turn around as his hands busy themselves with tightening the restraints.

“Do they really need to be that tight?” I whine.

“Yes.” He says flatly. “Like always, I’m giving the option to opt out of this and eat for yourself.” Reed addresses Daken seriously. “and… like I always do, I’m encouraging you to do so.”

Daken remains passive. Though his eyes are a little wide. Reed probably doesn’t notice. He’ s not used to the small, barely there, emotions that Daken conceals so well.

“Alright.” Reed sighs. He motions for me to roll the cart over to him.

He goes about the process of inserting the tube, attaching it to the bottle, and then emptying said bottle without much fuss from Daken- who looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. I don’t blame him. Having someone forcibly fill your stomach probably isn’t the best thing for one’s mental state.

 

And I’m thinking about this. What’s going on in Daken’s head? What he thinks about as he lays there so passively. If he’s not fighting solely for my sake.

Things need answers. There’s so much we don’t understand. So much we can’t understand. Not until he lets us. And god only knows when that will happen. He’s more vocal with me and Logan- yes. But he’s not telling us what’s going on. I have a small clue based on watching him the last six months. I know he hears and sees things. I know he gets confused- and angry. And if left to his own devices he is an extreme danger to himself. Self-mutilation is self-mutilation- regardless of whether you can heal from it or not.

Maybe he needs to talk to someone. Maybe Logan and I just aren’t enough.

“We’re done, Johnny.” Reed says knowingly. He knows I’ve been avoiding watching him too closely. That seeing Daken like this is like getting punched in the gut.

 

“Good.” I say quietly.

“You could come help me wash him… “ The man drawls. “if you insist on being in here, that is. No one is going to blame you if you want to leave.”

Leave. I could. I don’t have to watch this. I don’t have to put myself through this. I could go. He doesn’t need me. Not anymore- he’s got others now. People to take care of him. People who take better care of him than I ever could. I-

“Stop it.” I mumble, closing the distance between me and the bed. “Those are your fears, Daken. Not mine.”

His face remains passive, though there’s a flicker of understanding there. He’d been caught. He surrenders to that idea. His pheromones may work on me on some small level- but I have a greater resistance than most. He’s tried to drive me away enough times for me to know what’s real and what isn’t. When you deal with someone who’s been forced to be manipulative most of their life on the basis that it ensured their survival- you have to learn what’s really you. Your thoughts. Your emotions. You have to know where you end and they begin. There is no room for doubt or second guessing. They use that. They exploit it.

Daken wants me to leave. He wants me to be safe. With no words being spoken, I know he wants me to be happy. Not to be tied down to him.  
“I’m not going anywhere.” I state reassuringly.

“What?” Reed is confused. He doesn’t understand that there can be a conversation based solely on exchanged emotions and little to no actual words.

“Pheromones.” I explain for the millionth time. “You all forget about the pheromones. He’s scared to use his claws- yes. But that doesn’t stop him from using his other power. It’s his greatest defense mechanism. He wants to drive us away. He wants to drive me away.”

“Why would he want that?” Reed huffs with effort as he removes the tube.

“So I’ll be happy.” I answer gently.

“Ah.” The man says in understanding. “He really cares for you, you know.” Reed smiles. “I get to hear him the most. He never says a word to me, directly. But I’m listening. I hear his conversations when no one’s there. Just him and his ‘demons’ as Ben likes to call them. You come up a lot. When you’re not here, he begs for you. He pleads with them to return you- like it’s their fault that you’re gone…”

“You hear all of that?”

“Of course.” Reed says dismissively. “He’s my patient. I have to have an understanding of his symptoms if I’m to try and treat them.”

“You know who he hears?” I ask darkly.

“Yes.” Reed says after some thought. “A few of them at least. His master… the shape shifter- oddly enough- and some of the telepaths… honestly when that came up I had Ms. Grey do a mental scan of the whole building and the surrounding area- I thought they were really there. More importantly, he thought they were really there.”

“Answer me this, honestly. Can you help him?”

Reed looks over at me with a determined look on his face. “Yes. And if not, I will find someone who can. I will not let someone suffer like this. It goes against everything I believe in.”

“Then why didn’t you stop it?” I try to keep the heat out of my voice.

Reed sighs, fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. “I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought Fury would be more successful with helping the mutants that came out of the compound. There were so many. So many nameless people who’d suffered. Daken held the key to understanding. His memories held the faces, and the facts. He knew where everything hidden was. He knew where operatives were. People who’d gone so deep into hiding that not even S.H.I.E.L.D. could flush them out. Dangerous people, Johnny. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

“When did you realize it was wrong?” I press.

Reed looks at me. “The fourth procedure. Usually, I came in a few hours after they were done. Assessed him, sent him home. He was always calm and collected by then. One day something went wrong with the schedule. I got there early. I heard him. Non-stop torment. And they didn’t care. I tried to stop them. But they assured me that the pain would subside. That they were going to take care of him afterward.”

“Did they?”

Reed shakes his head. “You know the answer to that Johnny. You more so than anyone.”

“So now… you’re what- atoning for what you’ve done?”

“I’m helping him because it’s the right thing to do. Because you love him and he loves you. That makes him a part of this family. We take care of our own.”

I smile a little. “He’s asleep.” I point to Daken, who is very much passed out.

Reed chuckles. “So he is. Come here… we can wash him off without waking him if we’re careful.”

Washing him is sort of relaxing. The physical contact makes me feel better. And openly talking with Reed since this started has been really therapeutic.

“You know… I won't say that I understand exactly what you’re going through.” Reed says while I busy myself with washing and untangling Daken’s hair. They don’t usually bother with it, but I think he’d appreciate the gesture. “But I can understand watching someone you love suffer. Sue’s pregnancies were hard. You know that. When she thought she lost Val… it was horrible. Then when she actually gave birth- there wasn’t a thing I could do. She had to suffer. It was just the way it was. And it hurts. When you love someone so greatly and all you can do is sit on the sidelines and hope for the best.”

“Yea.”

“My advice for you is simple, Johnny. When people are hurting they push you away. They don’t want you there to see them. They want to grieve and suffer in their own ways.” He looks up from washing Daken’s arm. “You have to know that it’s worth pushing past that. That stopping isn’t an option. If you love him, then you’ll fight with him- even if it means going against what he wants.”

“So don’t stop- basically.” I summarize.

“Exactly.” The man says. “You didn’t when the odds were against you personally. So don’t give up when they’re stacked against him. The two of you have a weird thing going. He needs you just as much as you need him… even if he can’t tell you that.”

I look at him in a stunned sort of silence. “How do you know so much?”

“He told you as much… only you weren’t there. I was. He loves you… I heard him say as much.”

“He rarely admits that he loves me.” I say wistfully.

“It’s recorded if you want to hear it.” Reed says with a shrug.

“Recorded?”

“Everything in this room is recorded. We can’t simply leave him on his own- so he’s monitored closely. And part of monitoring him means that it ends up reordered somewhere.”

“That’s… that’s creepy Reed.” I chuckle.

“I don’t sit there and comb through the recordings piece by piece.” Reed laughs. “Just the important things.”

“Then I guess now is a good time to tell you that Val was back in here today.” I smile smugly. “Dressed like a doctor, too.”

Reed sighs heavily. “This is why I’m going gray.” He mumbles.

Ya… probably. I never saw myself with kids. I guess with Daken that’s not really an option. I mean adoption would be possible… but I don't think he could handle it. The munchkins are close as I’m going to get.

And honestly- I’m okay with that.

With as shitty as my life has been these past few months- I’ve found something. Something so dear and precious to me that there’s no possible way it can be removed. And I won’t stop. I won’t cave. I’ll be right here. Waiting.

And for right now- that’s the best place in the world for me to be.


End file.
